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•BARNARD'S NATIONAL PEDAGOGY. 

AND 

LIBRARY OF PRACTICAL EDUCAiTION. 

BOOKS FOR PARENTS, TKACHERS, SCHOOL OFFICERS, AND STUDENTS. 



National Pedagogy and Library of Practical Education : 

1. Studies and Conduct : Letters, Essays, and Suggestions on the Relative Value of Studies, 
Books and the best Methods of Rending, Manners and the Art of Conversation, tlie Acquisi- 
tion and True Uses of Wealth, and the Conduct of Life generally. 5C4 pages. $3.50. ]875. 

The best evidence of the intrinsic value of these Letters, Suggestions, and Essays, is in 
the names of their authors — Addison, Aiken, Bacon, Barrow, Bodleigh, Brougham Burleigh, 
Bulwer, Burns, Carlyle, Channing, Chatham, Chesterfield, Collingwood, De (iuiucey, llupnnloup, 
Everett, Faraday, Franklin, Froude, Gladstone, Grimke, Hall, Hamilton, Herschil, Humboldt, 
Huxley, Jameson, Jerome, Locke, Lowe, Macaulay, Mackintosh, Mill, Milton, More Niebuhr, 
Newman, Pitt, Pope, Potter, Raumer, Sidney, Southey, South, Swift, Taylor, Temple, Tyndal, 
Whately, Wordsworth, and others. 

2. Primary Schools and Elementary Instruction : Object Teaching and Oral Lessons 
on Social Science and Common Things, with the Principles and Practice of Elementary Instruction 
in the Primary, Model, and Training Schools of Great Britain. Revised Edition.— 544 pp. $3.00. 

Ashburton, Barnard (Sketch of Systems of Public Elementary Schools in England, Scotland, and 
Ireland), Bell, Brougham, Currie, Dunn, Ellis, Hay, Keenan, Knight, Lancaster, Macaulay, 
Mayo, Morrison, Ross, Shields, Stow, Sullivan, Tainsh, Wilderspin, Young. 

3. English Pedagogy — Old and New : or, Treatises and Thoughts on Education, the School, 
and the Teacher. First Series. 480 pages. Second Series. 608 pages. $3.50 each. 1876. 

First Series. — Ascham, Bacon, Cowley, Cowper, Crabbe, Coleridge, Fuller, Gray, Hartlib, Hood 
Locke, Milton, Petty, Shenstone, Spencer, Whately, Wotton. 

Second Series. — Arnold, Brinsly, Calderwood, Colet, Collis, Coote, Defoe, Donaldson, Duff, 
Elyot, Evelyn, Goldsmith,, Hoole, Johnson, Jolly, Lyttleton, Macaulay, Mulcaster, Parker, Parr 
Payne, Pope, Quick, Smith, South, Southey, Steele, Strype, Todhunter, Wase, Webster, Wolsey. 

4. American Pedagogy: Contributions to the Principles and Methods of Education, by 
Barnard, Burgess, Bushnell, Channing, Cowdery, Dickinson, Doane, Everett, Fairchild, Hart, 
Hopkins, Huntington, Mann, Page, Philbrick, Pierce, Potter, Sheldon, Wayland, and Wilbur, 
First Series. Revised Ed. 576 pages. $3.50, 

5. German Pedagogy : Views of German Educators and Teachers on the Principles of Educa- 
tion, and Methods of Instruction for Schools of different Grades. Revised Edition. 640 
pages. $3..50. 1876. Abbenrode, Benneke, Diesterweg, Fichte, Frcebel, Gcethe, Graser, Hentschel 
Hencomp, Herbart, Hentz, Jacobs, Meierotto, Raumer, Riecke, Rosenkranz, Ruthardt, Wichern. 

6. Pestalozzi and Swiss Pedagogy: Memoir, and Educational Princi|)les, Methods, and 
Influence of John Henry Pestalozzi, and Biograpical Sketches of several of his Assistants and 
Disciples: together with Selections from his Publications, and accounts of Schools and Teachers 
in Switzerland. Revised Edition. 656 pages. $3.50. "*" 

7. German Teachers and Educational Reformers : Memoirs of Eminent Teachers and 
Educators with contributions to the History of Education in Germany. 1876. 586 pages. $3.50. 

Early Christian Teachers, Basedow, Comenius, Erasmus, Franke, Hieronymians, Luther, Melanc- 
thon, Ratich, Stnrm, Trotzendorf Felbiger, Kindermann, Frederic II., Maria Theresa, etc. 

8. French Teachers, Schools, AND Pedagogy — Old and New. 648 pages. $3.50. 
Early Christian Teachers and Schools; Jesuits, Christian Brothers and other Teaching Orders ; 

Rabelais, Ramus, Montaigne, Port Royalists, Fenelon, Bollin, Montesquieu, Rousseau; Talley- 
rand, Condorcet, Daunau, Napoleon ; Oberlin, Cuvier, Cousin, Guizot, Ravaisson, Remaset, 
Marcel, Duruy, LeVerrier, Dupanloup, Mayer, Marbeau, Wilm, and others. 

9. English Teachers, Educators, and Promoters or Education. 556 pages. $3.50. 

10. American Teachers, Educators, and Benefactors of Education, with 130 
Portraits. 5 vols. $3.50 per volume. 

IL American Graded Public Schools, with Plans of School-houses and Equipment and 
Regulations for Schools in Cities. 556 pages. $3.50. 

12. Aphorisms and Suggestions on Education and Methods of Instruction — 
Ancient and Modern. $3.00. 

13. School Codes. — Constitutional Provisions respecting Enucatio:., State School Codes, and 
City School Regulations. $3.00. 

14. School Architecture ; Principles, Plans and Suecifications for structures for educa- 
tonal purposes Revised Edition— WO pages. $5.00. 



iarmmt J^bajoig^, 



EDUCATION, 



THE SCHOOL, AND THE TEACHER, 



GERMAN LITERATURE. 



-V^^v-- C^c 



REPUBLISHED FEOM 

^arnnrb's ^mEritHu |ournaI of ^bncalioir. 



SECOND EDITION. 



HARTFORD: 
BROWN & GROSS 

1876. 






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nX 



PREFATORY NOTE. 



The following chapters prepared originally as articles for ^The 
American Journal of Education,^ were selected by the editor when 
acting as Agent of the Board of Normal Regents for the State of 
Wisconsin, and issued as one of a series of volumes entitled 
Papers fob the Teacher. The Series have since been extended 
so as to embrace a larger amount of suggestive thoughts on the 
principles and methods of education from eminent writers in differ- 
ent languages than can be found in any similar collection in the 
English language. They have been thought by others worthy the 
title of the Library of National Pedagogy. 

Henry Barnard. 
Hartford, January, 1876. 



CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTION, 9"!.2 

Schools and Education in German Literature, - - - . . 1 1 

FREDERICK FROEKEL, 23 

System op Infant Garden Training and Instruction, .... 93 

GCETHE,— ROSENKRAN'Z— HERBART,— BENEKE,— FICHTE, - - i7-oi> 

Examples of German Treatment of Pedagogic Subjects - - . 17 

KARL VON RAUMER, 79-368 

Contributions to Pedagogy, --.-.... gi 

I. Early Childhood and Youth, .......gi 

II. History, ---.-.... jqi 

III. Geography, -----.... in 

IV. iVatural Science, --•-.... 123 



V. Geometry, 



153 



VI. Arithmetic, --....... jyy 

VII. Physical Education, --...... jgg 

VIII. Christianity in Pedagogy, ....... 2I8 

IX. Classical Instruction, ........ g29 

X. Methods of Teaching Latin, ....... 949 

1. Old Granim.atical Method, ....... 249 

2. Speakiug as in the Native Tongiie, ..... 262 

Montaigne,— Locke, — Maupcrtius,— Gesner, .... 252 

3. Grammar evolved from Reading,— Interlinear, - ... 253 

Ratich. — Locke,— Hamilton, — Tafel, ..... 253 

4. Universal and other Methods, --.... 254 

Jacotot,—Ruthardt,—Meierotto,— Jacobs, .... 255 

XT. Science and Art, -.---... 283-''91 

XII. Education of Girl.s, ....... 295-368 

RUDOLF RAUMER, 369-433 

Study of the German Language, ........ 373 

F. ADOLPH WILIIELM DIESTERWEG, 439 

I. Catechism of Methods of Teaching, --.•-- 445 

1. Intuitional Instruction. By Diesterweg, .... 445 

2. Reading. By Hencump, ---.... 447 

3. Arithmetic. By Dicstenceg, ...... 449 

4. Geometry. By Diesterweg - . . . . . . 45^ 

5. National History. By Hentz, ...... 4r,2 

6. National Philosopliy. By Diesteriveg, - - . . .454 

7. Astronomy. By Diesterweg, ---... 455 

8. Geography. By Abbenroile, --..... 459 

9. History. By Abhenrorle, --..... 4f;4 
II. Guide for German Teachers, --..... 472 

1. Intuitional and Speaking Exercises. By Diesterweg, ... 473 

2. Drawing in Common Schools. By Dr. E. Hentsehel, - - - 491 

3. Singing in Common Schools. By Dr. E. Hentsehel, - - - 613 

4. Discipline in Schools. By Diesteriveg, .... 54J 

G. A. RTECKE, 559_5-g 

5Ian as the Subject op Education, ---,... 559 
JOHN BAPTIST GRASER, of Bayreu'h, - 577-582 

System of Instruction for Common Schools, --.... 577 
JOHN HENRY WICHERN, 583-f;48 

German Reform Schools, ...... cg^ 

^^■^^^'^' ' - 649-656 

STEIGER-S LLST OF GERMAN PEDAGOGICAL "WORKS, - - - . I-32 



GERMAN TEDAGOGY. 



INTRODUCTION. 

Is the prosecution of our labors as an educational journalist we 
have had occasion to draw largely from the pedagogical literature 
of the German language, which, beyond that of any other country, 
is pre-eminently rich in the historical development of education, 
both public and individual, and in the exhaustive discussion of the 
principles and methods of instruction. While we must accord to 
Italy the merit of preserving, and to Italy and France of trans- 
raittino- and enlarging the ancient civilization, and to the British 
Isles of sending back to the continent the torch of christian cul- 
ture when its light was almost extinguished in the devastations of 
civil war and successive waves of barbarian invasions, we find in the 
nations which belong to the great German family a succession of 
schools and teachers, in which and by whom the work of human 
culture has been carried on with enthusiasm, in spite of civil war, 
and changing and belligerent dynasties. Since the great ecclesias- 
tical upbreak of the sixteenth century, and particularly since the 
social and political agitations which grew out of the action of the 
French Revolution on European institutions, German writers, 
^statesmen, and teachers have bestowed more thought on the 
problems and discussions of education, than have the same classes 
in any, or all other countries together. The results are now mani- 
fest to the world in the universality and high character of the 
public instruction, in the wealth of literary and scientific produc- 
tion, in the industrial development, and the military strength of 
the German people. 

It is not creditable to English and American teachers and edu- 
cators that a literature so rich in thorough historical research, pro- 
found speculation, and wise and varied experience from infant train- 
ing to the broadest university culture, should have been so long 
neglected— especially when the German educational reformers were 
so prompt to appreciate and appropriate the broad generalizations 
of Bacon, and the practical common sense of Locke, as well as the 
suggestions of Rousseau and Pestalozzi, in this field. 



(Bcniuin; Itchjoju, .ScljaolS; ititir (icacljco^ 



E. Steiger will issue the following Works prepared by Dr. 
Barnard, late U. S. Commissioner of Education, and Editor of American 
Journal of Education, on the History, Organization, Administration, 
Studies, and Discipline of ■ Public Schools of various grades in the 
different German States, together with Biographical Sketches of the 
great Educational Reformers of Germany, and a full exposition of 
their respective systems of School Instruction and Discipline. 

I. ELEMENTARY AND SECONDARY INSTRUCTION : 

Prepared from original sketches by eminent teachers and educators in each 
State, together with a Supplement devoted to the observations of experienced 
school men from France, England, and the United States. 

Anhalt, Austria and Hungary, Baden, Bavaria, Brunswick, Hanover, Hesse-Cassel, Hesse-Darm- 
stadt, Liechtenstein, Lippe-Detmold, Lip|)e-Scliaumburg, Luxemburg and Limburg, ]\Iecl<lenburg- 
Schwerin, Mecklenburg-Strelitz, Nassau, Oldenburg, Prussia, Reuss, Saxony, Saxe-Altenburg, 
Suxe-Coburg, Saxe-Meiningen, Snxe- Weimar, Waldeck, Wurtemberg, and the Free Cities, with 
a general summary of the Educational Systems and Statistics for the whole of Germany. 856 
pages. Price, $1,50. 

Supplement : Systems and Institutions of Public Instruction in Berlin, Vienna, Dres- 
den, and other Cities of Germany, with special notices of the Kinder-garten, Primary Schools, 
Real Schools, and Gymnasia, by Bache, Arnold, Mann, Stowe, Pattison, and others. $3. .50. 

II. GERMAN SUPERIOR INSTRUCTION : 1 Vol. $3.00. 
(1.) The Universities of Germany, by Karl Von Raumer. 

(2.) Universities of the Middle ages, particularly of Bologna and Paris, by Prof Savigny. 
(3.) The German University, by Prof. H. Von Sybel. 

(4.) Universities, Past and Present — their influence on civilization, by Dr. Von DiJIlinger. 
(5.) Statistics of Professors and Students, and Programmes of Lectures. 

III. INSTITUTIONS OF SPECIAL INSTRUCTION : 1 Vol. $4..50. 

(1.) Polytechnic and other Industrial Schools — in Austria, Baden, Bavaria, Brunswick, Hano- 
ver, Nassau, Prussia, Saxony, Wurtemberg. 

(2.) Military Schools and Systems in Prussia, Saxony, Bavaria and Austria. 

(3.) Seminaries for Teachers of Elementary, and Secondary Schools, and Universities. 

(4.) Preventive and Reformatory Schools, for neglected and morally exposed children. 

IV. GERMAN EDUCATIONAL REFORMERS: 

Memoirs of the Hieronymians Wessel, Rudolph Agricola, Burch, Erasmus, Dringenberg, Wim- 
pheling, Reuchlin, Luther, Melancthon, Trotzendorf, Sturm, Neander, Jesuits, Hecker, Semler, 
Ratich, Comenius, Franke and the Pietists, Basedow and the Philanthropists, Ernesti, Hermann, 
Herder, Wolf, with an exposition of their educational systems. 1 Vol. $3.50. 

V. MODERN GERMAN PEDAGOGY AND METHODOLOGY : 

Views of Frobel, Fichte, Herbert, Beneke, Raumer, Diesterweg, Honcamp, Hentschel, Hintze, 
Alibenrode, Graser, and Wichern, on the Principles of Education, and methods of Instruction for 
Schools of different grades, 1 Vol. $3.50. 

VL PEST ALOZZI AND PESTALOZZIANISM: 

Memoir of the great Swiss Educator, with his Leonard and Gertrude, Evening Hour of the Her- 
mit, and other Publicutione, and an Recount of German Pestalozzians, and their influence on the 
popular schools of Germany, 1 Vol. $3.50. 



GERMAN PEDAGOGY. 1 1 

The attention given in Germany to the organization and adminis- 
tration of schools, and the instruction and discipline of children, 
grows out of certain principles which are fundamental in the Ger- 
man ideal of the State, and its functions. These principles are very 
clearly set forth by Prof. Donaldson in his Lecture on the History 
of Education in Prussia. 

The ancient Greeks and Romans had a stronger consciousness of the claims 
of society than of those of the individual. They saw that society hved for ever. 
The individual members died, but the society, the community, was ever renewed 
and ever continued. And the individual members derived their blessings and 
privileges from society. It was therefore the bounden duty of every individual 
to think first of the good of the community, to sacritico his own wishes and 
pleasures for its welfare, and to submit to all restrictions which the general 
weal, the commonwealth, might impose. Existence in a State demands unself- 
ishness. This ancient idea the Prussians have retained. The nation is a unity; 
the rulers are its head, its brains; and their work is to accomplish, through the 
machinery of the State, all that is best accomplished through that machinery. 
Education is one of these things. It is an object that owes its success to 
organization. A good teacher can not be extemporized. He must be sys- 
tematically trained, and he must look on his profession as the work of his life. 
A good scliool must be supported by a regular and permanent source of income. 
Variability in this matter tends to defeat educational eflbrts ; and if a whole 
people is to be educated, ample provision must be made for them in the matter 
of schools and teachers. If a nation, therefore, is to have good teachers, good 
schools, and a sufiBcient number of them, it must begin the preparation of the 
teachers, and the erection of the schools, long before they will pay, and it must 
organize the whole into a unity. For these and many other reasons education 
can not be satisfactorily given to a whole community except with a complete 
public organization. This the Prussians have always acknowledged. They 
have always regarded education as specially the duty of the State. Proofs of 
, this could be given innumerable. I shall quote from three writers. Beneke 
says : ' The right of the State in respect of the school has been disputed by no 
one. It can not be a matter of indifference to it in what way its future citizens 
are trained. As all other far-stretching interests, so also those connected with 
education and instruction are concentrated in it ; and as it has the duty to pro- 
vide for the satisfaction of these, so must it also have the right of the chief es- 
tablishment and superintendence of all institutions of education and instruction.' 
'I understand,' says Paul de Lagarde, a famous scholar and theologian of Got- 
tingen, in a pamphlet on the relation of Church and State, published 1873 — 'I 
understand by the State the institution which seeks, at the expense of all, and 
with means presented by all, to attain to ends necessary for all, or even only de- 
sirable to all, but not attainable through the efforts of one or several individuals. 
Herewith it is granted that the State has to accomplish nothing which the indi- 
vidual or individuals can accomplish ; that it has to accomplish only what is 
necessary for all, and what by its nature can be accomplished only through the 
common eBbrt of all ; that its right, might, and duty go only so far as the 
universal necessity of the ends which it places for itself. The State ought to 
give the money of the nation intrusted to it only when it is convinced that that 
for which it gives out the money is, or can be, the common property of the na- 
tion. It is entitled, for instance, to give out money for the army, for schools, 
for canals, for roads, for forests, because all these objects are necessary to the 
national life ; but a single member, or an association of single members, of it, 
can not take care of these at all, or only imperfectly, and are also not bound to 
procure by private means what is for the good of all.' In like manner Eduard 
Zeller, in his lectures at Berlin, 1873, remarks, 'Society alone can form the in- 
stitutions and provide for the means which all higher instruction requires, all 
the more the further science advances and spreads out into a mutiplicity of 
single departments. From it alone can a suitable connected organization and 



12 GERMAN PEDAGOGY, 

direction of the whole of education proceed. Tts power alone is in a position 
to overcome the hindrances which the indifference, the folly, the selfishness of 
many parents put in the way of universal and vigorous education of youth. It 
is bound and entitled to make use of this power by regard to itself as well as 
to all belonging to it. ... The State is bound, in looking after her own 
future, to secure her permanence and prosperity by instruction and education.' 
You will notice that all these writers have in their minds the entire education 
of the country, the universities and Gijmnaskn as well as the people's schools, 
and this may be said to be nearly the unanimous opinion of all German 
thinkers. 

The Prussian State has fully apprehended its duty in this matter. From the 
time of Frederick's father to the present day the rulers have sought to bring all 
the wisdom they could get to bear on this problem, limiting their action by only 
one consideration, the maintenance of loyalty to themselves. In fact this I 
consider to be one chief element in the success of the Prussian system, that the 
rulers have always sought for the men best skilled in the science and art of edu- 
cation to guide them in all educational legislation. And whatever else may be 
said of Prussian schemes of instruction, they bear on their face the fact that 
they have been formed by men practically and theoretically acquainted with 
education, and are eminently wise. Let me illustrate the action of the rulers 
according to this principle. Shortly before the time of Frederick the Great's 
father, a religious movement, what we should call a revival movement, broke 
out in Prussia. Spener was its leader. He had a pupil of the name of Francke. 
The Church at that time was sunk in a cold orthodoxy. It was the greatest 
sin not to believe every tittle of the creed, but it was no sin not to feel the love 
of God. Moral death hates life, and when the revival movement came it was 
met by stern opposition. Francke suffered persecution from the men of ortho- 
doxy, simply because he had life in him, for in reality he was as orthodox as 
they were. But this Francke had the love of God in him, and the love of the 
poor, and the love of children, and so he established a school for the poor, and 
then a seminary for teachers, and various other institutions. The king. Fried- 
rich Wilhelm I., saw that he was doing a good and great work for his people. 
He gave him substantial aid, and consulted him when he issued laws for educa- 
tion. Francke thus became the real founder of the modern people's school. 
Francke had a pupil called Hecker, as pietislic and orthodox as himself, and as 
intent on doing great work. Frederick the Great was neither orthodox nor 
pietist. He had no belief in the great truths of Christianitj^, but he believed in 
Hecker. Hecker knew about education ; Hecker was in earnest about educa- 
tion ; and Frederick gave him full swing. He employed Hecker to organize 
education. It was Hecker that drew up his educational acts for him. These 
educational acts are really the foundation of the Prussian success. Hecker in- 
serted compulsory clauses, though this was not new, as the doctrine had always 
existed in the Prussian mind. He insisted on teachers being trained for their 
profession. He tried to get the whole country interested in the maintenance 
of the teachers. He instituted seminaries for teachers, and he and Semler were 
the originators of the Real-schule. Frederick went so far as to allow Hecker to 
introduce his pietism into the act. The decree of the skeptical Frederick con- 
tains this clause: 'As far as the work of the sciiool is concerned, sacristans and 
schoolmasters are earnestly reminded above every thing to prepare themselves 
for teaching by a heartfelt prayer for themselves, and to ask from the Giver of 
all good gifts wisdom and patience that their exertions and labors may be 
blessed. In particular they are to pray the Lord that he would grant them a 
heart paternally inclined and tempered with love and seriousness toward the 
children intrusted to them, that they may discharge all the duties lying on them 
as teachers willingly and without grudge, remembering that they can accom- 
plish nothing, not even gain the hearts of the children, without the divine aid 
of Jesus, the friend of children, and of His spirit.' 

Tlic same determination to choose the best men for the Government offices 
pervades the Prussian system. The head of that system is the Minister of In- 
struction, always a man thoroughly versed in educational matters. He presides 
over a council of education, in which there are always two or three men who 



GERMAN FED AGOG r. 13 

have had large experience in practical education, and who are profoundly ac- 
quainted with the science of pedagogy. It is the business of tlie Minister to 
form a clear idea of the aims which he wishes each class of scliools to have 
before them. And, for this purpose, he asks one of his council, who is practi- 
cally conversant with the science and art of teaching, to draw up general 
directions as to the aims, subjects, and best methods of teaching. This docu- 
ment is submitted to the council. Tlie Minister listens to all that has to be said 
by men well acquainted witli the political and ecclesiastical affairs of the country, 
makes up his mind as to the advice given, and then sends his directions to all 
persons concerned. These documents are of great value as expositions of edu- 
cational practice, and show a rare amount of wisdom. Tliey give unity and 
purpose to the whole education of Prussia. But great care is taken not to in- 
terfere with details. The details are to be worked out by the various subordin- 
ate councils. The Universities are made to a large extent self-governing. The 
directors of Gymnasien have large powers, witli mucli responsibility. And 
special work is assigned to each education board, in proportion as it is supposed 
capable of doing it. But no directly educational work is done by any one who 
is not specially prepared and fitted for it, and no board determines strictly edu- 
cational matters without having the direction and advice of some one practically 
acquainted with education. There is always attached to the provincial board 
a special member called a school counselor, who is appointed for his special 
knowledge of the art and science of education. 

The schoolmaster himself is also looked on as an official of the State. His func- 
tion is not merely to teach reading, writing, and otlier arts ; but to make good 
citizens. Accordingly, it is demanded of him that he give his life to the work. 
He must submit to a preliminary course of training at a seminarium or normal 
school; he must serve a kind of apprenticeship ; he must pass certain examin- 
ations. And the boards are warned to be particularly strict in these examina- 
tions. It is thus very rare that an incompetent teacher finds his way into a 
school; and if such an event takes place, the board that let him pass is held 
responsible for tlie mistake, and is bound to get employment for him in some 
other branch of service for which he is better fitted. Once in a school he is 
urged to make progress in his career. A man who does not exert himself is 
sent to the schools where the lowest pay is given, and the mode of life is disa- 
greeable. But if he works, he may rise to any extent. The only obstacle in 
his way is that many of the best educational situations are open only to those 
who have gone through the Gymnasien and the universities. But if he has 
this education, he may become the school counselor and a member of the pro- 
vincial board; he may become a director of a seminarj'; he may become a 
member of the chief board; he may become the Minister of Instruction himself. 
All the offices lie open to merit and loyalty. He is also secured a fixed salary 
and certain privileges. He may have a retiring allowance at a certain stage, 
and his widow and children will be cared for after his death. In fact, there is 
every inducement for him to apply his whole heart to his special work, to con- 
tinue improving himself to the last, and to be loyal to a Government which, in 
no ordinary degree, sympathizes with bira in his somewhat hard and difficult 
vocation. 

If the State is thus careful in providing for instruction, it expects the people 
to take it. Every child must be educated. No excuse is admissible, except 
the guarantee that tlie child is being instructed properly elsewhere. There are 
two essential duties whidi all owe to the State — service in war and attendance 
at school. The service in war is of recent date, owing its existence to the mind 
of Scliarnhorst and the ravages of Napoleon. But the idea of compulsory at- 
tendance at school is found at all periods of Prussian history. 'I hold,' 
says Luther, ' that the autliorities are bound to compel their subjects to keep 
■ their children at school.' We find compulsion laid down in the educational de- 
crees of 1717 and 1736. In the laws of Frederick the Great more precise 
directions are given. The parents and guardians are to pay the school-fees to 
the schoolmaster (double the school-fees in Silesia), just as if the children had 
been sent to school; and if all warnings fail to make them do their duty, the 
magistrates of the place can seize their goods. When, moreover, the visitor 



14 GERMAN PEDAGOCy. 

examined the school in his yearly visitation, ho was to fine guilty parents six- 
teen groschen. In later times, retention of a ciiild from school is punished first 
by a fine in money. If the parents refuses to pay the money, his goods are 
sold. If this fails, or if the parent has no goods to sell, the parent is put in 
prison for a short time. But inspectors, teacliers, and local boards, are urged 
to use every means of persuasion before punishment is applied. The fees have 
always been small. In 1848, during the discussions which then took place, it 
was agreed that in the people's school no fees should be exacted, and the con- 
stitution of 1850, sworn to by the king, contains this clause, 'In the public peo- 
ple's schools in^itructicm is given free of charge.' But this part of the constitu- 
tion has never been carried into practice. If, however, the child's parents are 
too poor to pay the scliool-fee, the school board pays it. Moreover, education 
opens up wide prospects to all Prussian citizens. If a pupil shows great capa- 
city, there is a free place for him in the gymnasium and university. There are 
ten free places on an average for every one hundred pupils in a gymnasium. 
Every encouragement is given to ability. The Government aims at having all 
the ability of the country on its side and in its service. 

The one question which has arisen in regard to the State's management is 
whether too much pains is not bestowed on making the poorer classes Prussian 
citizens, and too little on making them men. Now as in Church matters, so in 
State the science of teaching has roused a certain amount of antagonism. 
' We must make our scholars men,' says the science of teaching. We must give 
them a knowledge of the history of other nations. We must bring out their 
human sympathies. And for this purpose we must get rid of the bureaucratic 
interference of State. The school must be a separate institution, independent, 
to a large extent, of Clnirch and State, and governed by those only belonging 
to the scholastic profession. There is a societj- in Berlin, already mentioned, 
that aims at accomplishing this emancipation of school alike from State and 
from Church, and it ranks among its members some eminent men ; but it is not 
likely to accomplish all tiiat it wishes, though it may certainly do a great deal 
of good. 

Last of all, the most influential cause that has led to the Prussian success is 
the wide appreciation of education. Tliis appreciation did not always exist. 
Frederick's legislation was to some extent frustrated by the stinginess of the 
nobility, and partly by tiie opposition of tiiose who doubted whether education 
was good for the laboring classes. It is characteristic of Prussia that these ob- 
scurantists were not so much afraid for the men as for the women. What good 
can it do, they said, to teach girls to write ? Tliey will then spend their whole 
time in writing love-letters. But the case is now altered. Just ideas of edu- 
cation have permeated the people. These ideas Jiave indeed come from above 
downward. The Prussian management does not listen to any control from un- 
educated or half educated men. But the Prussian Government claims the 
intelligent sympathy of all classes. And it has it. How is this? To explain 
this fully would require something like a history of the intellectual development 
of the Prussians during the last two centuries. But I shall attempt a short 
contribution to the explanation. The growth of a genuine literature in the end 
of last century is remarkable in this respect: it was tlie result, to a large ex- 
tent, of criticism. Leasing, the father of it, was by eminence a critic. He ex- 
amined minutely the laws and limits of poetry, sculpture, and painting. He 
discussed the drama. He was a critic of the classics. He established princi- 
ples of criticism. He worked by vision. It was the same with Herder. He 
was at home in all the phases of humanity. He gathered the ballads and 
legends of every nation. He sifted them, and drew out the human from them. 
Tliis habit of looking into things brought the writers face to face with reality, 
and the width of their range opened up all the aspects of human nature. The 
classical studies of Wolf and a host of successors had the same effect. They re- 
vealed and created a life different from the ecclesiastical one. They placed them 
at a widely different point of view. And, above all, they brought home to 
them the laws of evolution, as they appear in the progress of mankind. It was 
natural that, when the education of mankind was deeply pondered, the evolu- 
tion of the single mind should arrest attention. Aud at length it did. This is 



GERMAN PEDAGOGY. 15 

not so ea?y a subject as we are apt to imagine. We have been infants, we have 
been boys, and therefore we think we know what iniants and boys are. But 
do we ? For two of our first years our minds were incessantly employed. 
Thousands of impressions were made on them. We felt thousands of joys and 
sorrows And yet we can not remember one of them. That early lite is a 
mystery which we can not recall, and which to a large extent we can not 
fathom. The distance between our present life and that of boys is not so great, 
but still it is very great. Boys and men seem like ; but they are in reality very 
unlike- the boy goes through many stages before he reaches manhood. What 
are the«e stages through which the boy goes? What is the natural healthy 
evolution of the powers of a boy's mind ? These were the questions which 
Pestalozzi put to himself, and in answering them produced a revolution. ' To 
be a teacher of children,' said Luther, 'you must become a child.' And Pesta- 
lozzi became a child: with a heart glowing with love to his fellowmen, with 
singularly keen and lively sympathies, with an ardent affection for the poor, 
and with a rare consciousness of his own weaknesses, he set himself to the 
work of teaching boys to become men. The problem, you see, is not to teach 
children to read or write. Books are but mere instruments. The child stands 
face to face with nature, man, and God. These are his real lesson books. 
What is the alphabet of this instruction ? What are the various stages ?_^ Pes- 
talozzi pored over tliese problems: and he gave his answers. The answers 
spread over Europe. New light was thrown on education. The best minds in 
Prussia turned to the solution of the difficult problems; and the result was a 
universal interest among all cultivated people in education. And you may at 
ouce see why this interest should be great and persuasive in Germany. It was 
pressed upon the people by all their greatest minds. Look at German litera- 
ture, and you will find this to be the case. Herder wrote specially on educa- 
tion Goethe devoted a great deal of attention to it, and some of the most 
beautiful portions of the Wilhebn Meisttr are descriptions of his imaginary 
schools. Jean Paul flung out a noble book on education full of grand thoughts. 
In fact, no German can be well acquainted with the best literature of his 
country without having to ponder the truest and wisest thoughts that have 
been uttered on education. The philosophers also took the subject up. Kant 
delivered lectures ou the science of education. ' Education,' he says, ' is the 
hardest and most difficult problem which can be proposed to man.' Fichte ad- 
dressed himself to the question in his speeches to the nation. And Hegel's 
Phanomenologie is so full of the development of the child's miud, that Bern- 
hardt, Thaulow, and Rosenkranz, have issued Hegelian systems of education. 
Thet'heologians, like Schleiermacher, also devoted themselves to an examina- 
tion of it. And in particular the psychologists deemed it as a special portion of 
their department. Two of these, Beneke and Herbart, have given us a tho- 
roughly scientific exposition of the whole subject. They analyzed every pro- 
cess of the child's thought; they estimated the value of every subject of 
instruction ; they discussed the relation of the intellectual to the emotional and 
practical ; they investigated the nature of that interest which children feel in 
learning ;' they defined the purposes and aims of instruction ; and they exam- 
ined philosophically the various schemes for its organization. The subject be- 
came a subject of scientific research. It found exponents in the Universities. 
There arose a pa^dagogik or science of instruction for all classes of schools. 
The Gymnasien shared iu the movement. It was held out that the great object 
of the Gymnasien was to prepare the pupil for the search for truth. The Uni- 
versities were the field for this search. Accordingly, there exists a keen desire 
to investigate. There are men whose only business it is to investigate. They 
examine without prejudice the principles which underlie education. Their ex- 
aminations keep up fresh interest and give fresh life to the subject. This life 
distills through the seminaries for teachers. The future teachers are made ac- 
quainted with all the investigations that are going on. They have to think the 
subject out for themselves. They know that teaching is an art which acts 
according to the laws that regulate the evolution of the human mind. They 
watch these laws. Their eyes are open. Their interest is lively. They be- 
lieve that they have a great and noble work to do. And their pupils also come 



16 



GERMAN PEDAGOGY. 



to know that their teachers are artists ; and hence the laws of education are 
extensivelj' known in Germany. The consequence is that the people appreci- 
ate education, that they do not meddle with what only a practical and scientific 
knowledge can direct, and they demand of all their instructors a minute inves- 
tigation into the laws of man's being. The educator is with them not a mere 
crammer; but all feel that his first and great duty is the harmonious and equa- 
ble evolution of the human powers. This appreciation of education seems to 
me the great secret of tlie Prussian success. It leads to an earnest determina- 
tion on the part of the Government that the education be thorough, and every 
effort of the Government is backed up by the hearty sympathy and intelligent 
cooperation of the people. 

We have to add to this appreciation of education the circumstance that 
Prussia has had to force its way upwards. It has always been ambitious ; and 
it has always aimed at attaining the object of its ambition through the educa- 
tion of the whole people, especially, indeed, through the higher education, but 
also through the lower. The State has felt in regard to its prosperity what 
Luther felt in regard to the Church. 'It is difficult,' he says, ' to make old dogs 
obedient and old scoundrels pious — the work at wliich the preacher labors and 
must often labor in vain ; but the young trees can be more easily bent and 
trained.' 

It is in the youth that the State of Prussia ha.s placed its hope. Frederick 
tlie Great was beset by Russians, Austrians, and French : he was reduced to 
the lowest depths sometimes, and his kingdom was exhausted. How did he 
think of reviving it? The first thing he did after the Seven Year.s' War was 
ended, even before the peace of Hubertsberg was ratified, was to promulgate 
an admirable education Act — the Act, as I have said, of Hecker. Again, when 
the State was overrun by Napoleon, to what did Frederick William III. and his 
minister Stein turn? 'Unquestionably we have lost in territory,' said the 
king ; ' unquestionably the State has sunk in external might and glory, but we 
Avill and must take care that we gain in internal might and internal glory ; and 
therefore it is my earnest desire that the greatest attention be devoted to the 
education of the people.' Again he says, 'I am thoroughly convinced that for 
the success of all that the State aims at accomplishing by its entire constitution, 
legislation, and administration, the first foundation must be laid in the youth 
of the people, and that at the same time a good education of the youth is the 
surest way to promote the internal and external welfare of the individual citi- 
zens.' 'Most,' said Stein, in 1808, 'is to be expected from the education and 
instruction of the youth. If by a method based on the nature of the mind 
every power of the soul be unfolded, and every crude principle of life be stirred 
up and nourished, if all one-sided culture be avoided, and if the impulses 
(hitherto often neglected with great inditterence), on which the strength and 
worth of man rest, be carefully attended to, then we may hope te see a race 
physically and morally powerful grow up, and a better future dawn upon us.' 
The method to which Stein here alludes was the method of Pestalozzi. Stein 
characterizes this method as one ' which elevates the self-activity of the spirit, 
awakens the sense of religion and all the nobler feelings of man ; promotes the 
ideal life, and lessens and opposes a life of mere pleasure.' These words of the 
king and his minister rang through the nation. The idea seized them. It 
permeated all the legislative measures of Altenstein, the Minister of Edu- 
cation, and it worked mighty results. It was within the twenty-three years 
of Altenstein's ministry that Prussia made such progress in education that she 
became an object of admiration to the nations of Europe, and Frenchmen and 
Englishmen went to see the system. And by it Prussia grew in strength and 
power. The Prussian people have had fiiith in education. They believed with 
Kant that 'behind education lies hid the great secret of the perfection of human 
nature.' They believed with Fichte that ' only that nation which shall first per- 
form the task of educating up to perfect manhood by actual practice will per- 
form the task of the perfect State.' They believed that education makes better 
citizens, better soldiers, better fathers, and better men. And history records, 
in great successes in war, and still greater successes in the realms of thought 
and science, that her faith has not been in vain. 



GERMAN PEDAGOGY.-GOETHE, 



GOETHE. 

In the vast and varied literary production of the tnaster-mind 
of German literature — extending over a period of seventy years of 
unprecedented activity in discussion, legislation, and administration 
in every department of the educational field, G5ethe found occa- 
sion, to touch on most of the problems, which occupied the atten- 
tion of statesmen and educators among his cotemporaries. 

Mr. Carlyle, in his Essay in the Foreign Review for 1828, on 
Goethe, dwells with earnest approbation on the chapters (the tenth 
and eleventh) of Wanderjahre* devoted to the nature, objects, and 
present ground of religious belief. " They come from the depths 
of his mind, and are not in their place till they reach the depths of 
ours. The wisest man, we believe, may see in them a reflex of his 
own wisdom ; but to him who is still learning, they become as 
seeds of knowledge ; they take root in the mind, and ramify as we 
meditate them, into a whole garden of thought." Forty years 
later, in his Address to the University of Edinburgh, on the occa- 
sion of his installation as Rector (fifty-six years after he entered that 
city a boy of not quite fourteen), when, with a beautiful enthusiasm, 
the third generation of his dear old native land welcomed him as 
* not altogether an unworthy laborer in the vineyard,' the Rector 
pronounces these ten pages " the most remarkable bit of writing 
which I have known to be executed in these late centuries. These I 
would rather have written, been able to write, than have written 
all the books that have appeared since I came into the world." Of 
these chapters, instead of attempting to give them in full, we will 
here introduce Mr. Carlyle's own version and epitome of them. AVe 
must confess to our inability to see either novelty or profundity of 
the wisdom which Mr. Carlyle finds secreted in them. The old 
New England schoolboy reverence was of the same type. 

* fVanderjahre denotes the period which a German artisan is obliged by law or usage to pass 
in traveling, to perfect himself in his craft, after the conclusion of his Leherjahre {^Qpprenticeship), 
nnd before his mastership can begin. Most of the guilds extend help in some shape to the needy 
wandering brothers, as they travel from city to city, studying their future craft. 



|g GOETHE.-CULTIVATION OF REVEBENCB. 

CULTIVATION OF RfiVERENCE,* 

We must fancy "Wilhelm in the 'Pedagogic province,' proceeding towards the 
'Chief, or the Three,' with intent to place his son under their charge, in that 
Wonderful region, ' where he was to see so many singularities.' 

■Wilhelm had already noticed that in the cut and color of the young people'3 
clothes a variety prevailed, which gave the whole tiny population a peculiar 
aspect: he was about to question his attendant on this point, when a still 
stranger observation forced itself upon him : all th'e children, how employed 
soever, laid down their work, and turned, with singular yet diverse gestures, 
towards the party riding past them; or rather, as it was easy to infer, towards 
the Overseer, who was in it. The youngest laid their arms crosswise over 
their breasts, and looked cheerfully up to the sky ; those of middle size held 
their hands on their backs, and looked smiling on the ground ; the eldest stood 
with a frank and spirited air, — their arms stretched down, they turned their 
heads to the right, and formed themselves into a line ; whereas the others kept 
separate, each where he chanced to be. 

The riders having stopped and dismounted here, as several children, in their 
various modes, were standing forth to be inspected by the Overseer, Wilhelm 
asked the meaning of these gestures ; but Felix struck-in and cried gaily : 
" What posture am I to take then ?" " Without doubt," said the Overseer, 
" the first posture : the arms over the breast, the face earnest and cheerful to- 
wards the sky." Felix obeyed, but soon cried: "This is not much to my 
taste; I see nothing up there: does it last long? But yes I" exclaimed he, 
joyfully, " yonder are a pair of falcons flying from the west to the east : that is 
a good sign, too?" — "As thou takest it, as thou behavest," said the other: 
"Now mingle among them as they mingle." He gave a signal, and the chil- 
dren left their postures, and again betook them to work or sport as before. 

Wilhelm a second time 'asks the meaning of these gestures;' but the Over- 
seer is not at liberty to throw much hght on the matter; mentions only that 
they are symbolical, ' nowise mere grimaces, but have a moral purport, which 
perhaps the Chief or the Three may farther explain to him.' The children 
themselves, it would seem, only know it in part ; ' secrecy having many ad- 
vantages ; for when you tell a man at once and straightforward the purpose of 
any object, he fancies there is nothing in it.' By and by, however, having left 
Felix by the way, and parted with the Overseer, Wilhelm arrives at the abode 
of the Three ' who preside over sacred things,' and from whom farther satis- 
faction is to be looked for. 

Wilhelm had now readied the gate of a wooded vale, surrounded with high 
walls : on a certain sign, the little door opened, and a man of earnest, imposing 
look received our Traveler. The latter found himself in a large beautifully 
umbrageous space, decked with the richest foliage, shaded with trees and 
bushes of all sorts ; while statel}'' walls and magnificent buildings were dis- 
cerned only in glimpses through tliis thick natural boscage. A friendly recep- 
tion from the Three, who by and by appeared, at last turned into a general con- 
versation, the substance of which we now present in an abbreviated sliape. 

"Since you intrust your son to us," said they, "it is fair that we admit you 
to a closer view of our procedure. Of what is external you have seen much 
that does not bear its meaning on its front. What part of this do you wish to 
liave explained?" 

" Dignified yet singular gestures of salutation I have noticed ; the import of 
which I would gladly learn : with you, doubtless, the exterior has a reference 
to the interior, and inversely ; let me know what tliis reference is." 

" Well-formed healthy children," replied the Three, " bring much into the 
world along with them ; Nature has given to each whatever he requires for 
ittme and duration; to unfold this is 'Our duty ; often it unfolds itself better of 

* Cariyle's Critical mid. Miscellaneous Easayg. Vol. I, 204. 



GOETHE.-CULTIVATION OF REVERENCE. jg 

its own accord. One thing there is, however, which no child brings into the 
world with him ; and yet it is on this one thing that all depends for making 
man in every point a man. If you can discover it yourself, speak it out." 
Wilhelm thought a little while, then shook his head. 

The Three, after a suitable pause, exclaimed, " Reverence !" Wilhelm 
seemed to hesitate. " Reverence 1" cried they, a second time. " All want it, 
perhaps yourself" 

"Three kinds of gestures you have seen; and we inculcate a threefold rev- 
erence, which, when commingled and formed into one whole, attains its full 
force and effect. The first is Reverence for what is Above us. That posture, 
the arras crossed over the breast, the look turned joyfully towards heaven ; 
that is what we have enjoined on young children ; requiring fiom them thereby 
a testimony that there is a God above, who images and reveals himself in 
parents, teachers, superiors. Then comes the second ; Reverence for what is 
Under us. Those hands folded over the back, and, as it were, tied together; 
that down-turned smiling look, announce that we are to regard the earth with 
attention and cheerfulness: from the bounty of the earth we are nourisiied; 
the earth affords unutterable joys ; but disproportionate sorrows she also brings 
us. Should one of our children do himself external hurt, blamably or blame- 
lessly; should others hurt him accidentally or purposely; should dead invol- 
untary matter do him hurt; then let him well consider it; for such dangers 
will attend him all his days. But from this posture we delay not to free our 
pupil, the instant we become convinced that the instruction connected with it 
has produced sufficient influence on him. Then, on the contrar}^ we bid him 
gather courage, and, turning to his comrades, range himself along with them. 
Now, at last, he stands forth, frank and bold ; not selfishly isolated ; only in 
combination with his equals does he front the world. Farther we have nothing 
to add." 

"I see a glimpse of it!" said Wilhelm. "Are not the mass of men so marred 
and stinted, because they take pleasure only in the element of evil- wishing and 
evil-speaking? Whoever gives himself to this, soon comes to be indiSerent 
towards God, contemptuous towards the world, spiteful towards his equals: 
and the true, genuine indispensable sentiment of self-estimation corrupts into 
self-conceit and presumption. Allow me, however," continued he, "testate 
one difficulty. You say that reverence is not natural to man : now has not the 
reverence or fear of rude people for violent convulsions of nature, or other in- 
explicable mysteriously foreboding occurrences, been heretofore regarded as 
the germ out of which a higher feeling, a purer sentiment, was by degrees to 
be developed?" 

" Nature is indeed adequate to fear," replied they, " but to reverence not 
adequate. Men fear a known or unknown powerful being; the strong seeks 
to conquer it, the weak to avoid it ; both endeavor to get quit of it, and feel 
themselves happy when for a short season they have put it aside, and their na- 
ture has in some degree restored itself to freedom and independence. The 
natural man repeats this operation millions of times in the course of his life ; 
from fear he struggles to freedom ; from freedom he is driven back to fear, and 
so makes no advancement. To fear is easy, but grievous ; to reverence is diffi- 
cult, but satisfactory. Man does not willingly submit himself to reverence, or 
rather he never so submits himself: it is a higher sense which must be com- 
municated to his nature; which only in some favored individuals unfolds itself 
spontaneously, who on this account, too, have of old been looked upon as 
Saints and Gods. Here lies the worth, here lies the business of all true Re- 
ligions, v/hereof there are likewise only three, according to the objects towards 
which they direct our devotion." 

The men paused; Willielm reflected for a time in silence; but feeling in him- 
self no pretension to unfold these strange words, he requested the Sages to 
proceed with their exposition. They immediately complied. " No Religion 
that grounds itself on fear," said they, " is regarded among us. With the rev- 
erence to which a man should give dominion in his mind, he can, in paying 
honor, keep his own honor; he is not disunited with himself as in the former 
case. The Religion which depends on Reverence for what is Above us, we 
denominate the Ethnic; it is the Religion of the Nations, and the first happy 
deliverance from a degrading fear : all Heathen religions, as we call them, are 



20 GOETHE.— CULTIVATION OF REVERENCE. 

of this sort, whatsoever names they may bear. The Second Religion, which 
founds itself on Reverence for what is Around us, we denominate the Philo- 
sophical; for the Philosopher stations iiimself in the middle, and must draw 
down to him all that is higher, and up to him all that is lower, and only in this 
medium condition does he merit the title of Wise. Here as he surveys with 
clear sight his relation to his equals, and thereibre to the whole human race, 
his relation likewise to all other earthly circumstances and arrangements nec- 
essary or accidental, he alone, in a cosmic sense, lives in truth. But now we 
have to speak of the Third Religion, grounded on Reverence for what is I'nder 
us: this we name the Christian; as in the Christian Religion such a temper is 
the most distinctly manifested: it is a last step to wliich mankind were litted 
and destined to attain. But what a task was it, not only to be patient with 
the Earth, and let it lie beneath us, we appealing to a higher birthplace; but 
also to recognize humility and poverty, mockery and despite, disgrace and 
wretchedness, suffering and death, to recognize these things as divine; nay, 
even on sin and crime to look not as hindrances, but to honor and love them as 
furtherances, of what is holy. Of this, indeed, we find some traces in all ages: 
but the trace is not the goal : and this being now attained, the human .species 
can not retrograde ; and we may say that the Christian Religion, having once 
appeared, can not again vanish ; having once assumed its divine shape, can be 
subject to no dissolution." 

" To which of these Religions do you specially adhere ?" inquired Wilhelm. 

"To all the three," replied they, "for in their union they produce what may 
properly be called the true Religion. Out of those three Reverences springs 
the highest Reverence, Reverence for One's self, and these again unfold them- 
selves from this; so that man attains the highest elevation of which he is ca- 
pable, that of being justified in reckoning himself the Best that God and Na- 
ture have produced ; nay, of being able to continue on this lofty eminence, 
without being again by self-conceit and presumption drawn down from it into 
the vulgar level." 

The Three undertake to admit him into the interior of their Sanctuary; 
whither, accordingly, he, 'at the hand of the Eldest,' proceeds on the morrow. 
Sorry are we that we can not follow them into the ' octagonal hall,' so full of 
paintings, and the 'gallery open on one side, and stretching round a spacious, 
gay, flowery garden.' It is a beautiful figurative representation, by pictures 
and symbols of Art, of the First and the Second Rehgions, the Ethnic and the 
Philosophical ; for the former of which the pictures have been composed from 
the Old Testament; for the latter from the New. We can only make room for 
some small portions. 

"I observe," said Wilhelm, "you have done the Israelites the honor to se- 
lect their history as the groundwork of this delineation, or rather you have 
made it the leading object there." 

"As you see,'" replied the Eldest; "for you will remark, that on the socles 
and friezes we have introduced another series of transactions and occurrences, 
not so much of a synchronistic as of a symphronistic kind ; since, among all 
nations, we discover records of a similar import, and grounded on the same 
facts. Thus 3'ou perceive here, while, in the main field of the picture, Abra- 
ham receives a visit from his gods in the form of fair youths, Apollo among 
the herdsmen of Admetus is painted above on the frieze. From which we 
may learn, that the gods, when they appear to men, are commonly unrecog- 
nized of them." 

The friends walked on. Wilhelm, for the most part, met with well-known 
objects; but tliey were here exhibited in a livelier, more expressive manner, 
than he had been used to see them. On some few matters he requested ex- 
planation, and at last could not help returning to his former question: "Why 
the Israelitish history had been chosen in preference to all others ?" 

The Eldest answered : " Among all Heathen religions, for such also is the 
Israelitish, this has the most distinguished advantages ; of which I shall men- 
tion only a few. At the Ethnic judgment-seat ; at the judgment-seat of the 



GOETHE.— CULTIVATION OF REVERENCE. 21 

God of Nations, it is not asked whether this is the best, the most excellent na- 
tion ; but whether it lasts, whether it has continued. The Israelitish people 
never was good for much, as its own leaders, judges, rulers, prophets, have a 
thousand times reproachfully declared : it possesses few virtues, and most of 
the faults of other nations: but in cohesion, steadfastness, valor, and when all 
this would not serve, in obstinate toughness, it has no match. It is the most 
perseverant nation in the world; it is, it was, and it will be, to glorify the name 
of Jehovali through all ages. We have set it up, therefore, as the pattern 
figure: as the main figure, to which the others only serve as a frame." 

"It becomes not me to dispute with you," said Wilhelm, " since you have 
instruction to impart. Open to me, therefore, the other advantages of this 
people, or rather of its history, of its rehgion." 

" One chief advantage," said the other, " is its excellent collection of Sacred 
Books. These stand so happily combined together, that even out of the most 
diverse elements, the feeling of a whole still rises before us. They are com- 
plete enough to satisfy ; fragmentary enough to excite ; barbarous enough to 
rouse; tender enough to appease; and for how many other contradicting 
merits might not these Books, might not this one Book, be praised '?" * * * 

Thus wandering on, they had now reached the gloomy and perplexed pe- 
riods of tiie History, the destruction of the City and the Temple, the murder, 
exile, slavery of whole masses of this stiff-necked people. Its subsequent for- 
tunes were delineated in a cunning allegorical way ; a real historical delinea- 
tion of them would have lain without tlie limits of true Art. 

At this point, the gallery abruptly terminated in a closed door, and AYilhelm 
was surprised to see himself already at the end. "In your historical teiies," 
said he, "I find a chasm. You have destroyed tiie Temple of Jerusalem, and 
dispersed the people; yet you have not introduced the divine man who taught 
there shortly before ; to whom, shortly before, they would give no ear." 

" To have done this, as you require it, would have been an error. The life 
of that divine Man, whom you allude to, stands in no connection with the 
general history of the world in his time. It was a private life ; his teaching 
was a teaching for individuals. What has publicly betallen vast masses of peo- 
ple, and the minor parts which compose them, belongs to the general History 
of the World, to the general Religion of the World ; the Religion we have 
named the First. What inwardly befalls individuals belongs to the Second Re- 
ligion, the Philosophical: such a Religion was it that Christ taught and prac- 
ticed, so long as he went about on Earth. For this reason, the external here 
closes, and I now open to you the internal." 

A door went back, and they entered a similar gallery ; where Wilhelm sooa 
recognized a corresponding series of Pictures from the New Testament. They 
seemed as if by another hand than the first : all was softer ; forms, movements, 
accompaniments, light and coloring. 

Into this second gallery, with its strange doctrine about ' Miracles and Para- 
bles,' the characteristic of the Philosophical Religion, we can not enter for the 
present, yet must give one hurried glance. Wilhelm expresses some surprise 
that these delineations terminate " with the Supper, with the scene where the 
Master and his Disciples part." He inquires for the remaining portion of the 
history. 

"In all sorts of instruction," said the Eldest, "in all sorts of communication, 
we are fond of separating whatever it is possible to separate ; for by this 
means alone can the notion of importance and peculiar significance arise in the 
young mind. Actual experience of itself mingles and mixes all things to- 
gether; here, accordingly, we have entirely disjoined that sublime Man's life 
from its termination. In life, he appears as a true Philosopher. — let not the ex- 
pression stagger you, — as a Wise Man in the highest sense. He stands firm to 
his point; he goes on his way inflexibly, and while he exalts the lower to him- 
self while he makes the ignorant, the poor, the sick, partakers of his wisdom, 
of his riches, of his strength, he, on the other hand, in nowise conceals his di- 
vine origin ; he dares to equal himself with God, nay, to declare that he him- 
self is God. la this manner he is wont, from youth upwards, to astound his 



22 GOETHE -CULTIVATION OF REVERENCE. 

familiar friends: of these he gains a part to his own cause; irritates the rest 
against him; and shows to all men, who are aiming at a certain elevation in 
doctrine and life, what they have to look for from tiie world. And thus, for 
the noble portion of mankind, his walk and conversation are even more in- 
structive and profitable than his death : for to those trials every one is called, 
to this trial but a few. Now, omitting all that results from this consideration, 
do but look at the touching scene of the Last Supper. Here the Wise Man, as 
it ever is, leaves those that are his own, utterly orphaned behind him ; and 
while lie is careful for the Good, he feeds along with them a traitor, by whom 
lie and the Better are to be destroyed." 

This seems to us to have ' a deep, still meaning ;' and the longer and closer 
we examine it, the more it pleases us. Wilhelm is not admitted into the shrine 
of the Third Religion, the Christian, or that of which Christ's sufferings and 
death were the symbol, as his walk and conversation had been the symbol of 
the Second, or Philosophical Religion. " That last Religion," it is said, — 

"That last Religion, which arises from the Reverence of what is Beneath us; 
that veneration of the contradictory, the hated, the avoided, we give to each 
of our pupils, in small portions, by way of outfit, along with him, into the 
world, merely that he may know where more is to be had, should sueli a want 
spring up within him. I invite you to return hither at the end of a year, to 
attend our general Festival, and see how far your son is advanced : then shall 
you be admitted into the Sanctuary of Sorrow." 

"Permit me one question," said Wilhelm : " as j'ou have set up the life of 
this divine Man for a pattern and example, have you likewise selected liis suf- 
ferings, his death, as a model of exalted patience ?" 

" Undoubtedly we have," replied the Eldest, "Of this we make no secret ; 
but we draw a veil over those sufferings, even because we reverence them so 
highly. We hold it a damnable audacity to bring forth that torturing Cross, 
and the Holy One who suffers on it, or to expose them to the light of tlie Sun, 
which hid its face when a reckless world forced such a sight on it; to take 
these mysterious secrets, in wiiich the divine depth of Sorrow lies hid, and 
play with them, fondle them, trick them out, and rest not till the most reverend 
of ah solemnities appears vulgar and paltry. Let .so much for the present suf- 
fice — * * * The rest we must still owe you for a twelvemonth. The instruc- 
tion, which in tlie interim we give the cliildren, no stranger is allowed to wit- 
ness: tiien, however, come to as, and you will hear what our best Speakers 
think it serviceable to make public on those matters." 

Could we hope that, in its present disjointed state, this emblematic sketch 
would rise before the minds of our readers, in any measure as it stood before 
the mind of the writer ; that, in considering it, they might seize only an out- 
line of those many meanings which, at less or greater depth, lie hidden under 
it, we should anticipate their thanks for having, a first or a second time, 
brought it before them. As it is, believing that, to open-minded truth-seeking 
men, the deliberate words of an open-minded truth-seeking man can in no case 
be wholly unintelligible, nor the words of such a man as Goethe indifferent, we 
have transcribed it for their perusal. If we induce them to turn to the original, 
and study this in its completeness, with so much else that environs it, and 
bears on it, they will thank us still more, To our own judgment at least, there 
is a fine and pure significance in this whole delineation: such phrases even as 
'the Sanctuary of Sorrow,' 'the divine depth of Sorrow,' have of themselves a 
pathetic wisdom for us ; as indeed a tone of devoutness, of calm, mild, priest- 
like dignity pervades the whole. In a time like ours, it is rare to see, in the 
writings of cultivated men, any opinion whatever bearing any mark of sincerity 
on such a subject as this : yet it is and continues the highest subject, and they 
that are highest are most fit for studying it, and helping others to study it. 



WILHELM MEISTER'S APPRENTICESHIP. 23 

The following passages, of a pedagogical character, are taken 
from Goethe's Wilhelm Meister in Carlyle's version : 

In order to accoroplish any thing by education, we must first become ac- 
quainted witli the pupil's tendencies and wishes : that when these are ascer- 
tained, he ought to be transported to a situation where he may, as speedily as 
possible, content the former and attain the latter ; and so if we have been mis- 
taken, may still in time perceive his error; and at last having found what suits 
him, may hold the faster, and the more diligently fashion himself by it 

The child's desire to have distinctions made in his ideas grew stronger every 
day. Having learned that things had names, he wished to hear the name of 
every thing : supposing that there could be nothing, which his father did not 
know, he often teased him with his questions, and caused him to inqisire con- 
cerning objects, which but for this he would have passed unheeded. Our in- 
nate tendency to pry into the •origin and end of things was likewise soon de- 
veloped in the boy. When he asked whence came the wind, and whither went 
the flame, his father for the first time truly felt the limitation of his own pow- 
ers, and wished to understand how far man may venture with his thoughts, 
and what things he may hope ever to give account of to himself or others. 

You admit that poets must be born such ; you admit this with regard to all 
professors of the fine arts ; because you must admit it, because those workings 
of human nature can scarce be aped with any plausibility. But if Ave consider 
strictly, we shall find that every capability, however slight, is born with us; 
that there is no vague general capability in men. It is our ambiguous dissi- 
pating education that makes men uncertain; it awakens wishes when it should 
be animating tendencies ; instead of forwarding our real capacities, it turns our 
efforts towards objects which are frequently discordant with the mind that aims 
at them, I augur better of young persons who are wandering astray along a 
path of their own, than of many who are walking rightly upon paths, which 
are not theirs. If the former, either by themselves, or by the guidance of 
others, ever find the right path, that is to say, the path which suits their na- 
ture, they will never leave it: while the latter are in danger every moment of 
shaking off a foreign yoke, and abandoning themselves to unrestricted license. 

Without earnestness there is nothing to be done in life : yet among the peo- 
ple whom we name cultivated men, but little earnestness is to be found : in la- 
bors and employments, in arts, nay even in recreations, they proceed, if I may 
say so, with a sort of self-defense ; they live, as they road a heap of news- 
papers, only to be done with it ; they remind one of that young Englishman at 
Eome, who told, with a contented air, one evening in some company, that ' to- 
day he had dispatched six churches and two galleries.' They wish to know 
and learn a multitude of things, and exactly those with which they have the 
least concern ; and they never see that hunger is not stilled by snapping at the 
air. When I become acquainted with a man, my first inquiry is : With what 
does he employ himself, and how, and with what degree of perseverance ? The 
answer regulates the interest, whfch I shall take in him for life. 

The invaluable happiness of liberty consisted, not in doing what one pleases, 
and what circumstances may invite to, but in being able, without hindrance or 
restraint, to do in the direct way what one regards as right and proper. 



24 



WILHELM MEISTER S APPRENTICESHIP. 



Art is long, life short, judgment difficult, occasion transient. To act is easy, 
to think is hard ; to act according to our thought is troublesome. Every be- 
ginning is cheerful ; the threshold is the place of expectation. Tlie boy stands 
astonished, his impressions guide him ; he learns sportfully, seriousness comes 
on him by surprise. Imitation is born with us ; what should be imitated is not 
easy to discover. The excellent is rarely found, more rarely valued. The 
height charms us, the steps to it do not ; with the summit in our eye, we love 
to walk along the plain. It is but a part of art that can be taught ; the artist 
needs it all. Who knows it half, speaks much and is always wrong ; who 
knows it wliplly, inclines to act and speaks seldom or late. The former have 
no secrets and no force ; the instruction they can give is like baked bread, 
savory and satisfying for a single day ; but flour can not be sown, and seed 
corn ought not to be ground. Words are good, but they are not the best. The 
best is not to be explained by words. The spirit in which we act is the high- 
est matter. Action can be understood and a^ain represented by the spirit 
alone. No one knows what he is doing, wliile he acts rightly; but of what is 
wrong we are always conscious. Whoever works with symbols only is a 
pedant, a hypocrite, or a bungler. There are many such, and they like to be 
together. Their babbling detains the scholar; their obstinate mediocrity vexes 
even the best. The instruction, which the true artist gives us, opens up the 
mind ; for where words fail him, deeds speak. The true scholar learns from 
the known to unfold the unknown, and approaches more and more to being a 
master. 

True art is like good company : it constrains us in the most delightful way to 
recognize the measure, by which and up to which our inward nature has been 
shaped by culture. 

It was the history of art alone, which could give us an idea of the Avorth 
and dignity of any work of art ; that we should know the weary steps of 
mere handicraft and mechanism, over which the man of talents has arisen in 
the course of centuries, before we can conceive how it is possible for the man 
of genius to move with airy freedom, on the pinnacle whose very aspect makes 
us giddy. 

Men are so inclined to content themselves with what is commonest ; the 
spirit and the senses so easily grow dead to the impressions of the beautiful 
and perfect ; that every one sliould study to nourish in his mind the faculty of 
feeling these things by every method in his power. For no man can bear to 
be entirely deprived of such enjoyments : it is only because they are not used 
to taste of what is excellent, that the generality of people take delight in silly 
and insipid things, provided they be new. For this reason, one ought every 
day at least to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it 
•were possible, to speak a few reasonable words. 

If we can conceive it possible that the Creator of the world liimself assumed 
the form of his creation, and lived in that manner for a time upon earth, this 
creature must appear to us of infinite perfection, because susceptible of such a 
combination with its maker. Hence, when we feel a certain disagreement with 
Him, and remoteness from Him, it is on that account the more our duty to seek 
out every property and beauty of our nature, by which our pretension to a 
similarity with the Divinity may be made good. 



ROSENKRANZ AND HIS PEDAGOG-Y, 



MEMOIR. 



John Charles Frederick Rosenkranz was born at Magdeburg, 
April 23, 1805. In addition to the educational facilities of bis 
native city, be attended lectures at Berlin, Ilalle, and Heidelberg, 
receiving his veniam docendi at Halle in 1828. In 1831, he be- 
came assistant professor, following enthusiastically the philosophical 
teaching of Hegel. In 1833, he received a call to Konigsburg, as 
professor ordi/iarius, and there he has performed his university 
work, with an absence of a year (1848) in official work at Berlin, 
and as deputy from Memel and Tilsit to the Prussian Diet in 1849. 
His voice as a lecturer has been devoted to disseminating the ideas 
of Hegel, and applying them to history, literature, theology, and life. 

As an author, his first work of importance was a 'History of 
German Poetry in the Middle Ages' (Halle, 1830), in which he en- 
deavors to trace its development from the Hegelian standpoint. 
This was followed by a ' Hand-Book of the Universal History of 
Poetry,' and in 1836, of the 'History of German Literature,' made 
up of fugitive pieces previously published. 

The following are the titles of works since published : — 

Natural Religion ; Encyclopedia of Theology ; Critique of (on) 
Schliermacher's Theory of Religion. 

Psychology ; or the Science of the Subjective Spirit ( Wissen- 
schaft vom Subjectivem Geiste). Konigsburg, 1837. 

History of Transcendental Philosophy, (published in the last vol- 
ume of the edition of Kant's works, edited by Rosenkranz and 
Schubest). 

Life of Hegel. Critique on Strauss' Glaubenslekre. 

Goethe and his Works. 

Pedagogy as a System. Konigsburg, 1848. 

Poetry and its History. Konigsburg, 1855. 

Diderot's Life and Works. 2 vols., Leipsig, 1866. 

Although Rosenkranz has published less on the prolific subject 
of Pedagogy than his professorial cotemporaries, his views are 
regarded as singularly comprehensive and profound — at once phil- 
osophical and practical. 

(25) 



26 



ROSENKRANZ AND HIS PEDAGOGICa 



PEDAGOGICS AS A SYSTEM.* 

The following analysis, although confined to the main divisions, 
exhibits the general scope of Rosenkranz's System of Pedagogics : — 



'in its General 
idea 



Part I. 



f its Nature 
{ its Form 
(. its Limits 

f Physical 



in its Special J Intellectual 
Elements 

( Moral 
Part II. f 



Education i in itsPiirticu- 
lur Systems 

Part III. 



Passive 



National 



Individual 



C Family China. 

•; Caste India. 

[Monkish Thibet. 

["Military Persia. 

I Priestly Egypt. 

I, Industrial Phoenicia. 

C .(Esthetic Greece. 

1 Practical Rome. 



Abstract Individ- 
I, ual 



Northern 
Barbarians. 



Theocratic Jews. 

Monkish 



Humanita- 
rian 



Chivalric 



for Civil 
Life 



for Special Callings 



to achieve an Ideal I 
of Culture. 1 



Pietistic. 

'The Human- 
ities. 

The Philan- 
thropic 
Movement, 



. for Free Citizenship. 

The following Extracts, although not continuous, will exhibit 
Prof. Rosenkranz's mode of treating this great subject : — 

Pedagogics as a science must (I.) unfold the general idea of Education ; (II.) 
must exhibit the particular phases into which the general work of Education 
divides itself, and (III.) must describe the particular stand-point upon which the 
general idea realizes itself, or should become real in its special processes at any 
particular time. 

1. General idea of Education. 

The nature of Education is determined by the nature of mind — that it can 
develop whatever it really is only by its own activity. Mind is in itself free ; 
but if it does not actualize this possibility, it is in no true sense free, either for 
itself or for another. Education is the influencing of man by man, and it has 
for its end to lead him to actualize himself through his own efforts. Tlie attain- 

• We follow, in these Extracts, Miss Anna C. Brackett's translation as reprinted from the Journal 
of Speculative Philosophy. St. Louis : 1872. p. 148. 



ROSENKRANZ AND HIS PEDAGOGICS. 



27 



ment of perfect manhood as the actualization of the Freedom necessary to 
mind constitutes the nature of Education in general. 

Man, therefore, is the only fit subject for education. "We often speak, it is 
true, of the education of plants and animals; but even when we do so, we ap- 
ply, unconsciously perhaps, other expressions, as 'raising' and 'training,' in 
order to distinguish these. 'Breaking' consists in producing in an animal, 
either by pain or pleasure of the senses, an activity of which, it is true, he is 
capable, but which he never would have developed if left to himself. On the 
other hand, it is the nature of Education only to assist in the producing of that 
which the subject would strive most earnestly to develop for himself if he had 
a clear idea of himself. 

In a more restricted sense we mean by Education the shaping of the individ- 
ual life by the forces of nature, the rhythmical movement of national customs, 
and the might of destiny in which each one finds limits set to his arbitrary will. 

In the narrowest sense, which however is the usual one, we mean by Educa- 
tion the influence which one mind exerts on another in order to cultivate the 
latter in some understood and methodical way, either generally or with refer- 
ence to some special aim. The educator must, therefore, be relatively finished 
in his own education, and the pupil must possess unlimited confidence in him. 
If authority be wanting on the one side, or respect and obedience on the other, 
this ethical basis of development must fail, and it demands in the very highest 
degree, talent, knowledge, skill, and prudence. 

2. The Form of Education. 

The general form of Education is determined by the nature of the mind, that 
it really is nothing but what it makes itself to be. Education can not create; 
it can only help to develop to reality the previously existent possibility; it can 
only help to bring forth to light the liidden life. 

This activity of the mind in allowing itself to be absorbed, and consciously 
so, in an object with the purpose of making it his own, or of producing it, is 
Work. But when the mind gives itself up to its objects as chance may present 
them or" through arbitrariness, careless as to whether they have any result, such 
activity is Play. "Work is laid out for the pupil by his teacher by authority, but 
in his play lie is left to himself! Play sends the pupil back refreshed to his 
work, since in play he forgets himself in his own way, while in work he is re- 
quired to forget himself in a manner prescribed for him by another. 

Play is of great importance in helping one to discover the true individualities 
of children, because in play they may betray thoughtlessly their inclinations. 
This antithesis of work and play runs through the entire life. Children antici- 
pate in their play the earnest work of after life ; thus the little girl plays with 
her doll, and the boy pretends he is a soldier and in battle. 

HABIT. 

Education seeks to transform every particular condition so that it shall no 
longer seem strange to the mind or in any-wise foreign to its own nature. This 
identity of consciousness, and the special character of any thing done or en- 
dured by it, we call Habit [habitual conduct or behavior]. It conditions form- 
ally all progress ; for that which is not yet become habit, but which we perform 
with a design and an exercise of our will, is not yet a part of ourselves. 

As to Habit, we have to say next that it is at first indifferent as to what it 



28 EOSENKRANZ AND HIS PEDAGOGICS. 

relates. But that which is to be considered as indifferent or neutral can not be 
defined in the abstract, but only in the concrete, because any thing that is indif- 
ferent as to whether it shall act on these particular men, or in this special situ- 
ation, is capable of another or even of the opposite meaning for another man 
or men for the same men or in other circumstances. 

Habit lays aside its indifference to an external action through reflection on 
the advantage or disadvantage of the same. Whatever tends as a harmonious 
means to the realization of an end is advantageous, but that is disadvantageous 
which, by contradicting its idea, hinders or destroys it. Advantage and disad- 
vantage being then only relative terms, a habit which is advantageous for one 
man in one case may be disadvantageous for another man, or even for the same 
man, under different circumstances. Education must, therefore, accustom the 
youth to judge as to the expediency or inexpediency of any action in its rela- 
tion to the essential vocation of his life, so that he shall avoid that which does 
not promote its success. 

Eut the absolute distinction of habit is the moral distinction between the good 
and the bad. For from this stand-point alone can we finally decide what is 
allowable and what is forbidden, what is advantageous and what is disadvan- 
tageous. 

As relates to form, habit may be either passive or active. The passive is that 
which teaches us to bear the vicissitudes of nature as well as of history with 
such composure that we shall hold our ground against them, being always equal 
to ourselves, and that we shall not allow our power of acting to be paralyzed 
through any mutations of fortune. Active habit [or behavior] is found realized 
in a wide range of activity which appears in manifold forms, such as skill, dex- 
terity, readiness of information, &c. It is a steeling of the internal for action 
upon the external, as the Passive is a steeling of the internal against the influ- 
ence of the external. 

FORMATION OF HABITS. 

Habit is the general form which instruction takes. For since it reduces a 
condition or an activity within ourselves to an instinctive use and wont, it is 
necessary for any thorough instruction. But as, according to its content, it may 
be either proper or improper, advantageous or disadvantageous, good or bad, 
and according to its form may be the assimilation of the external by the internal, 
or the impress of the internal upon the external. Education must procure for 
the pupil the power of being able to free himself from one habit and to adopt 
another. Through his freedom he must be able not only to renounce any habit 
formed, but to form a new one ; and he must so govern his system of habits 
that it shall exhibit a constant progress of development into greater freedom. 

We must characterize those habits as bad which relate only to our conven- 
ience or our enjoyment. They are often not blamable in themselves, but there 
lies in them a hidden danger that tiiey may allure us into luxury or effeminacy. 
But it is a false and mechanical way of looking at the affair if we suppose that a 
habit which have been formed bj^ a certain number of repetitions can be broken 
by an equal number of denials. "We can never renounce a habit utterly except 
through a clearness of judgment which decides it to be undesirable, and through 
firmness of will. 

If we endeavor to deprive the youth of all free and individual intercourse 



ROSENKRANZ AND HIS PEDAGOGICS. 



29 



with the world, one only falls into a continual watching of him, and the con- 
sciousness that he is watted destroys hi him all elasticity of spirit, all confi- 
dence, all originality. The police shadow of control obscures all independence 
and systematically accustoms him to dependence. And if we endeavor loo 
strictly to guard against that which is evil and forbidden, the intelligence of the 
pupils reacts in deceit against such efforts, till the educators are amazed that 
such crimes as come often to light can have arisen under such careful control. 

PROTECTION, REPROOF, AND PUNISHMENT AS TO BAD HABITS. 

If there should appear in the youth any decided moral deformity which ia 
opposed to the ideal of his education, the instructor must at once make inquiry 
as to the history of its origin, because the negative and the positive are very 
closely connected in his being, so that what appears to be negligence, rudeness, 
immorality, foolishness, or oddity, may arise from some real needs of the youth 
which in their development have only taken a wrong direction. 

If it should appear on such examination that the negative action was only a 
product of willful ignorance, of caprice, or of arbitrariness on the part of the 
youth, then this calls for a simple prohibition on the part of the educator, no 
reason being assigned. His authority must be sufficient to the pupil without 
any reason. Only when this has happened more than once, and the youth is old 
enough to understand, should the prohibition, together with the reason there- 
for, be given. 

Only when all other efforts have failed is punishment, whicli is the real nega- 
tion of the error, the transgression, or the vice, justifiable. Punishment inflicts 
.itentionally pain on the pupil, and its object is, by means of this sensation, to 
bring him to reason, a result which neither our simple prohibition, our explan- 
ation, nor our threat of punishment, has been able to reacli. 

Punisliment as an educational means is, nevertheless, essentially corrective, 
since, by leading the youth to a proper estimation of his fault and a positive 
change in his behavior, it seeks to improve him. At tiie same time it stands as 
a sad indication of the insuflSciency of the means previously used. On no ac- 
count should the youth be frightened from the commission of a misdemeanor, 
or from the repetition of his negative deed througli fear of punishment — a sys- 
tem whicli leads always to terrorism : but, although it may have this effect, it 
should, before all things, impress upon him the recognition of the fact that the 
negative is not allowed to act as it will without limitation, but rather that the 
Good and the True have the absolute power in the world, and that they are 
never without the means of overcoming any thing that contradicts tliem. 

In the statute laws, punishment has the opposite office. It must, first of all, 
satisfy justice, and only after this is done can it attempt to improve tlie guilty. 
If a government should proceed on the same basis as the educator it would mis- 
take its task, because it has to deal with adults, whom it elevates to the honor- 
able position of responsibiHty for their own acts. The state must not go back 
to the psychological ethical genesis of a negative deed. It must assign to a 
secondary rank of importance the biographical moment which contains the deed 
in process and the circumstances of a mitigating character, and it must consider 
first of all the deed in itself. It is quite otherwise with the educator ; for he deals 
with human beings who are relatively undeveloped, and who are only growing 
toward responsibility. So long as they are still under tlie care of a teacher, the 



JO ROSENKRANZ AND HIS PEDAGOGICS. 

responsibility of their deed belongs in part to him. Jf we confound the stand- 
point in which punishment is administered in the state with that in education, 
we work much evil. 

Punishment considered as an educational means, can not be determined a 
priori, but must always be modified by the peculiarities of the individual 
offender and by peculiar circumstances. Its administration calls for the exer- 
cise of the ingenuity and tact of the educator. 

Generally speaking, we must make a distinction between the sexes, as well 
as between the different periods of youth ; (1) some kind of corporal punish- 
ment is most suitable for children, (2) isolation for older boys and girls, and (3) 
punishment based on the sense of honor for young men and women. 

(1.) Corporal punishment is the production of physical pain. The youth is gen- 
erally whipped, and tins kind of punishment, provided always that it is not too 
often administered, or with undue severity, is the proper way of dealing with 
willful defiance, with obstinate carelessness, or with a really perverted will, so 
long or so often as the higher perception is closed against appeal. The impos- 
ing of other physical punishments, e.g., that of depriving the pupil of food, 
partakes of cruelty. The view which sees in the rod the panacea for all the 
teacher's embarrassments is censurable, but equally undesirable is the false sen- 
timentality which assumes that the dignity of humanity is affected by a blow 
given to a child, and confounds self conscious humanity with child-humanity, 
to which a blow is the most natural form of reaction, in which all other forms 
of influence at last end. 

The fully-grown man ought never to be whipped, because this kind of pun- 
ishment reduces him to the level of the child, and when it becomes barbarous, 
to that of a brute animal, and so is absolutely degrading to him. 

(2) By Isolation we remove the offender temporarily from the society of his 
fellows. The boy left alone, cut off from all companionship, and left absolutely 
to himself, suffers from a sense of helplessness. The time passes heavily, and 
soon he is very anxious to be allowed to return to the company of parents, 
brothers and sisters, teachers and fellow-pupils. 

(3) This way of isolating a child does not touch his sense of honor at all, and 
is soon forgotten, because it relates to only one side of his conduct. It is quite 
different from punishment based on the sense of honor, which in a formal man- 
ner, shuts the youth out from companionship because he has attacked the prin- 
ciple which holds society together, and for this reason can no longer be con- 
sidered as belonging to it. Honor is the recognition of one individual by others 
as their equal. Through his error, or it may be his crime, he has simply made 
himself unequal to them, and in so far has separated himself from them, so that 
his banishment from their society is only the outward expression of the real 
isolation which he himself has brought to pass in his inner nature, and which 
he, by means of his negative act, only betrayed to the outer world. Since the 
punishment founded on the sense of honor affects the whole ethical man and 
makes a lasting impression upon his memory, extreme caution is necessary in 
its application lest a permanent injury be inflicted upon the character. The 
idea of his perpetual continuance in disgrace, destroys in a man all aspiration 
for improvement. 

It is important to consider well this gradation of punishment (which, starting 
with sensuous physical pain, passes through the external teleology of temporary 



ROSENKRANZ AND HIS PEDAGOGICS. 31 

isolation tip to the idealism of the sense of honor), both in relation to the differ- 
ent ages at which they are appropriate and to the training which tliey bring 
with them. Every punishment must be considered merely as a means to some 
end, and, in so far, as transitory. The pupil must always be deeply conscious 
that it is very painful to his instructor to be obliged to punish him. The pathos 
of another's sorrow for the sake of his cure which he perceives in the mein, in 
the tone of the voice, in the delay with which the punishment is administered, 
will become a purifying fire for his soul. 

3. The Limits of Education. 

There are two widely differing views with regard to the Limits of Education. 
One lays great stress on the weakness of the pupil and the power of the teacher. 
According to this view, Education has for its province the entire formation of 
the youth. The despotism of this view often manifests itself wliere large num- 
bers are to be educated together, and with very undesirable results, because it 
assumes that the individual pupil is only a specimen of the wliole, as if the 
school were a great factory where each piece of goods is to be stamped exactly 
like all the rest. Individuality is reduced by the tyranny of such despotism to 
one uniform level till all originality is destroyed, as in cloisters, barracks, and 
orphan asylums, where only one individual seems to exist. There is a kind of 
Pedagogy also which fancies that one can thrust into or out of the individual 
pupil what one will. This may be called a superstitious belief in the power of 
Education. — The opposite extreme disbelieves this, and advances the policy 
which lets alone and does nothing, urging that individuality is unconquerable, 
and that often the most careful and far-sighted education fails of reaching its 
aim in so far as it is opposed to the nature of the youth, and that this individu- 
ality has made of no avail all efforts toward the obtaining of any end which 
was opposed to it. This representation of the fruitlessness of all pedagogical 
efforts engenders an indifference toward it which would leave, as a result, only 
a sort of vegetation of individuality growing at hap-hazard. 

Tiie limit of Education is (1) a Subjective one, a limit made by the individuality 
of the youth. This is a definite limit. Whatever does not exist in this indi- 
viduality as a possibility can not be developed from it. Education can only 
lead and assist; it can not create. What Nature has denied to a man. Educa- 
tion can not give him any more than it is able, on the other hand, to annihilate 
entirely his original gifts, although it is true that liis talents may be suppressed, 
distorted, and measurably destroyed. But the decision of the question in wiiat 
the real essence of any one's individuality consists can never be made with cer- 
tainty till he has left behind him his years of development, because it is then 
only that he first arrives at the consciousness of his entire self; besides, at this 
critical time, in the first place, much knowledge only superficially acquired will 
drop off; and again, talents, long slumbering and unsuspected, may first make 
their appearance. Whatever has been forced upon a child in opposition to his 
individualit}^ whatever has been only driven into him and has lacked receptiv- 
ity on his side, or a rational ground on the side of culture, remains attached to 
his being only as an external ornament, a foreign outgrowth which enfeebles 
his own proper character. 

(2) Tiie Objective limit of Education lies in the means which can be appro- 
priated for it. That the talent for a certain culture shall be present is certainly 



32 ROSENKRANZ AND HIS PEDAGOGICS. 

the first thing ; but the cultivation of this talent is the second, and no less 
necessary. But how much cultivation can bo given to it extensively and in- 
tensively depends upon the means used, and these again are conditioned by the 
material resources of the family to which each one belongs. The greater and 
more valuable the means of culture which are found in a family are, the greater 
is the immediate advantage which the culture of each one has at the start. 
With regard to many of the arts and sciences this limit of education is of great 
significance. But the means alone are of no avail. The finest educational ap- 
paratus will produce no fruit where corresponding talent is wanting, while on 
the other hand talent often accomplishes incredible feats with very limited 
means, and, if the way is only once open, makes of itself a center of attraction 
which draws to itself with magnetic power the necessary means. The moral 
culture of each one is, however, fortunatel}' from its very nature, out of the 
reach of such dependence. 

(3) The Absolute limit of Education is the time when the youth has appre- 
hended the problem which he has to solve, has learned to know the means at 
his disposal, and has acquired a certain facility in using them. The end and 
aim of Education is the emancipation of the youth. It strives to make hira 
self-dependent, and as .soon as he has become so it wishes to retire and to be 
able to leave him to the sole responsibility of his actions. To treat the youth 
after he has passed this point of time still as a youth, contradicts the very idea 
of education, which idea finds its fulfillment in the attainment of majority by 
the pupil. Since the accomplishment of education cancels the original inequal- 
ity between the educator and the pupil, nothing is more oppressing, nay, revolt- 
ing to the latter than to be prevented by a continued dependence from the 
enjoyment of the freedom which he has earned. 

The opposite extreme of the protracting of Education beyond its proper time 
is necessarily the undue hastening of the Emancipation. — The question whether 
one is prepared for freedom has been often opened in politics. When any peo- 
ple have gone so far as to ask this question themselves, it is no longer a ques- 
tion whether that people are prepared for it, for without the consciousness of 
freedom this question would never have occurred to them. 

Although educators must now leave the youth free, the necessity of further 
culture for him is still imperative. But it will no longer come directly through 
them. Their pre-arranged, pattern-making work is now supplanted by self- 
education. Each sketches for himself an ideal to which in his life he seeks to 
approximate every day. 

In the work of self-culture one friend can help another by advice and exam- 
ple; but he can not educate, for education presupposes inequality. — The neces- 
sities of human nature produce societies in which equals seek to influence each 
other in a pedagogical way, since they establish by certain steps of culture 
different classes. Thcj'- presuppose Education in the ordinary sense. But they 
wish to bring about Education in a higher sense, and therefore they vail the 
last form of their ideal in the mystery of secrecy. — To one who lives on con- 
tented with himself and without the impulse toward self-culture, unless his 
unconcern springs from his belonging to a savage state of society, the Germans 
give the name of Philistine, and he is always repulsive to the student who is 
intoxicated with an ideal. 



FRffiBEL AND THE KINDERGARTEN SYSTEM. 



MEMOIR. 

Froebel (Friedrich Wilhelm August) was born April 21, 1782, at 
Oberweissbach, in the principality of Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt. His 
mother died when he was so young that he never even remembered 
her; and he was left to the care of an ignorant niaid-of-ali-work, 
who simply provided for his bodily wants. His father, who was the 
laborious pastor of several parishes, seems to have been solely occu- 
pied with his duties, and to have given no concern whatever to the 
development of the child's mind and character beyond that of strictly 
confining him within doors, lest he should come to harm by straying 
away. One of his principal amusements, he tells us, consisted in 
watching from the window some workmen who were repairing the 
church, and he remembered long afterward how he earnestly desired 
to lend a helping hand himself. The instinct of construction, for 
the exercise of which, in his system, he makes ample provision, was 
even then stirring within him. As years went on, though nothing 
was done for his education by others, he found opportunities for 
satisfying some of the longings of his soul, by wandering in the 
woods, gathering flowers, listening to the birds, or to the wind as it 
swayed the forest trees, watching the movements of all kinds of 
animals, and laying up in his mind the various impressions then 
produced, as a store for future years. 

Not until he was ten years of age did he receive the slightest reg- 
ular instruction. He was then sent to school, to an uncle who lived 
in the neighborhood. This man, a regular driller of the old, time- 
honored stamp, had not the slightest conception of the inner nature 
of his pupil, and seems to have taken no pains whatever to discover 
it. He pronounced the boy to be idle (which, from his point of 
view, was quite true) and lazy (which certainly was not true) — a 
boy, in short, that you could do nothing with. And, in fact, the 
teacher did nothing with his pupil, never once touched the chords 
of his inner being, or brought out the music they were fitted, under 
different handling, to produce. Froebel was indeed, at that time, a 
thoughtful, dreamy child, a very indifferent student of books, cor- 

3 (33> 



34 FRCEBEL AND THE KINDERGARTEN SYSTEM. 

dially bating the formal lessons with which he Avas crammed, and 
never so happy as when left alone with his great teacher in the woods. 

It was necessary for him to earn his bread, and we next find him 
a sort of apprentice to a woodsman in the great Thuringian forest. 
Hero, as be afterward tells us, be lived some years in cordial inter- 
course with nature and mathematics, learning even then, though un- 
consciously, from the teaching be received, how to teach others. 
His daily occupation in the midst of trees led him to observe the 
laws of nature, and to recognize union and unity in apparently con- 
tradictory phenomena. 

In 1801 he went to the University of Jena, where he attended 
lectures on natural history, physics, and mathematics ; but, as he 
tells us, gained little from them. This result was obviously due to 
the same dreamy speculative tendency of mind which characterized 
bis earlier school life. Instead of studying bard, be speculated on 
unity and diversity, on the relation of the whole to the parts, of 
the parts to the whole, &c., continually striving after the unattain- 
able and neglecting the attainable. This desultory style of life was 
put an end to by the failure of means to stay at the University. 
For the next few years he tried various occupations, ever restlessly 
tossed to and fro by the demands of the outer life, and not less dis- 
tracted by the consciousness that his powers had not yet found what 
he calls their ' center of gravity.' At last, however, they found it. 

While engaged in an architect's office at Frankfort, he formed an 
acquaintance with the Rector of the Model School, a man named 
Gruner. Gruner saw the capabilities of Froebel, and detected also 
his entire want of interest in the work that be was doing ; and one 
day suddenly said to him : ' Give up your architect's business ; you 
will do nothing at it. Be a teacher. We want one now in the 
school ; you shall have the place.' This was the turning point in 
Froebel's life. He accepted the engagement, began work at once, and 
tells us that the first time he found himself in the midst of a class of 
30 or 40 boys, he felt that he was in the element that he had missed 
so long — ' the fish was in the water.' He was inexpressibly happy. 
This ecstasy of feeling, we may easily imagine, soon subsided. In 
a calmer mood he severely questioned himself as to the means by 
which he was to satisfy the demands of his new position. 

Ab9ut this time he met with some of Pestalozzi's writings, which 
so deeply impressed him that he determined to go to Yverdun and 
study Pestalozzism on the spot. He accomplished bis purpose, and 
ilivcd and worked for two years with Pestalozzi. His experience at 



FRCEBEL AND THE KINDERGARTEN SYSTEM. 35 

Yverdnn impressed him with the conviction that the science of edu- 
cation had still to draw out from Pestalozzi's system those funda- 
mental principles which Pestalozzi himself did not comprehend. 
'And therefore,' says Schmidt, 'this genial disciple of Pestalozzi 
supplemented and completed his system by advancing from the 
point which Pestalozzi had reached through pressure from without, 
to the innermost conception of man, and arriving at the thought 
of the true development and culture of mankind.' 

[To the articles published in Vol. I., 1859, p. 449; IV. '792; XIX. 611, we 
add a paper by Prof. Payne on Frcebel's System of Infant Culture. We repro- 
duce a former article by Dr. Wimmer, of Dresden, in part, to show tiie estima- 
tion of the system in Germany twenty j'^ears ago.] 

Friedrich Froebel, and the Kindergarten. Froebel, who died in 
1852, was a Pestalozzian, and founder of the kindergarten, (children's garden.) 
Some gentlemen at Liebenstein, a watering place near Eisenach, called him " the 
old fool ;" but Diesterweg, on hearing the name, said that Socrates was such & 
fool, and Pestalozzi also. Froebel considered the kinderbewahr-anstalten, (schools 
for keeping and caring for abandoned children,) as insufficient, because merely 
negative : he wished not only to keep, but to develop them, without cheeking the 
growth of the body, or separating the child from its mother, — as he would have 
the children in the garden but two or three hours daily. Children are born with 
the desire of acting. This was the first principle : hence, his garden was to be 
free, and planted with trees and shrubs, to enable the children to observe the or- 
ganic life of nature, and themselves tp plant and work. Thus he would change 
the instinct of activity into a desire of occupation. The child will play ; hence 
the right kindergarten is a play ground or play school, though Froebel avoids the 
name school. The kindergarinerin^ (the nurse or female gardener,) plays with 
the children. Froebel's chief object has been to invent plays for the purpose. 
His educational career commenced November 13th, 1816, in Greisheim, a little 
village near Stadt-Ilm, in Thuringia; but in 1817, when his Pestalozzian friend, 
Middendorf, joined him, (Froebel had been several years learning and teaching in 
Pestalozzi's school, at Yverdun,) the school was transferred to the beautiful village 
of Keilhau, near Rtidolstadt, which may be considered as his chief starting- 
place, and is still, under Middendorf and Mrs. Froebel, a seminary of female 
teachers. Langenthal, another Pestalozzian, associated himself with them, and 
they commenced building a house. The number of pupils rose to twelve in 1818. 
Then the daughter of war-counselor Hoffinan of Berlin, from enthusiasm for 
Froebel's educational ideas, became his wife. She had a considerable dowry, 
which, together with the accession of Froebel's elder brother, increased the ftinds 
and welfare of the school. In 1831 he was invited by the composer, Schnyder 
von Wartensee, to erect a similar garden on his estate, near the lake of Sempaeh, 
in the canton Luzern. It was done. Froebel changed his residence the next 
year, from Keilhau to Switzerland. In 1834 the government of Bern invited him 
to arrrauge a training course for teachers in Burgdorf. In 1835 he became prin- 
cipal of the orphan asylum in Burgdorf, but in 1836 he and his wife wished to 
return to Grermany. There he was active in Berlin, Keilhau, Blankenburg, 
Dresden, Liebenstein in Thuringia, Hamburg, (1849,) and Marienthal, near Lieb- 
enstein, where he lived until his decease in 1852, among the young ladies, whom 
he trained as nurses for the kindergarten^ and the little children who attended 
his school. In August 7th, 1851, to the surprise of all, the kindergarten were 



36 GERMANV. 

Buddenly prohibited by the Prussian government, (and afterward in Saxony,) 
" because they formed a part of Froebel's socialistic system, and trained the chil- 
dren to atheism.'- This was an error ; Charles Froebel, Friedrich's nephew, was 
the socialist, and the kindergarten had no connection with him. 

A meeting of educationalists was called by Diesterweg, at Liebenstein, when 
the following resolutions were adopted : 

1. Froebel intends a universal development of the talents given by God to 
the child. 

2. For this purpose he intends, 

a. To cultivate the body by a series of gymnastic exercises. 

b. To cultivate the senses, particularly the more spiritual ; the sense for form 
and color by instruction, and the rhythmical and musical sense by songs and 
melodies. 

c. To cultivate the desired want of action, as well as the mental faculties in 
general, by a series of exercises fiirnished by plays of his own invention. 

d. To stimulate the moral and religious sense by addresses and narratives, 
and especially by the child's communion with the educating nurse. 

e. To extinguish the children's bad habits, and to accustom them to child- 
like virtues by keeping them by themselves in social circles and merry plays. 

Soon after this the garden at Marienthal was visited by an officer of the Prus- 
sian government, school-counselor Bormann of Berlin, who declared its tendency 
rather anti-revolutionary than otherwise, and bestowed upon it much praise. In 
the fifth general assembly of German teachers, in Salzungen, May 16-19, 1853, 
the following resolutions were adopted by a majority : that Froebel's educational 
method is in true accordance with nature, as developing and promoting independ- 
ent action ; and that his kindergarten is an excellent preparation for the com- 
mon school. The Volksfreund of Hesse, however, says that it furthers revolu- 
tion, and that every one who agrees with it by word or deed, is himself revolu- 
tionary. 

There are in Germany a gi'eat many klein-kinder-hewahranstelten, (institu- 
tions for keeping little children,) e. g, in Bavaria, in 1852, 182, with 6,796 chil- 
dren, (2,740 gi'atis,) and an income of 51,772 florins. In Berlin there are 33, the 
first of which was founded in 1830 by private charity, to keep little children 
whose parents are in daytime absent from home, under a good inspection, to 
accustom them to order, cleanliness and morality, and to fit them for attendance at 
school. These charity schools are provided, as to the age of children, by the 
well-known " Krippen,^^ (creches,) founded in 1844 by M. Marbenu in Paris, the 
author of" Lcs creches, ou moyen de diminuer la misere en augmentant la popula- 
tion,'''' a little book that received a price of 3000 francs from the French Academy. 
Filling a gap between the lying-in-institutions and the kindergarten, they 
were rapidly adopted by governments and cities, for children from a fortnight to 
two years old ; and in 1852 Paris had already 18. The first in London dates 
from March, 1850 ; in Vienna, from 1849, (in 1852 there were 8;) in Belgium, 
from 1840 ; in Dresden, from 1851, etc. Further information is given in the 
Bulletin des creches, published monthly in Paris. On the education of little 
children, Mr. Foelsing, at the head of a kindergarten in Darmstadt on Froebel's 
principles but in a somewhat different way, publishes at Darmstadt a monthly 
paper called " Home and the Infant School." The Sunday and weekly papers 
published formerly by Froebel in Liebenstein, might be still read with advantage. 



GERMANY. 31^ 

It must be observed, that the kindergarten are for the most part not charity nor 
public schools, as are the other institutions mentioned ; and this may in part ac- 
count for this small increase compared with that of other schools. Yet no one 
can doubt, that Froebel's work has not been lost ; it has influenced education 
generally and that of infant schools in particular, to a great extent. 

German Views on Female Teaching in America. — Dr. Vogel makes the 
following remarks on this subject, in the Leipziger Zeitung, July 16, 1857. 

" Among the many interesting communications from the United States, which 
we owe partly to the kindness of private friends, and partly to the liberality of 
the Smithsonian Institution, through the kind mediation of the American consul 
at Leipsic, in a statement in the 37th Report on the Public Schools of the City 
and County of Philadelphia. This brings to our notice a very important fact, to 
which we deem it the more our duty to draw general attention through this 
gazette, because it throws a warning light on the future of our own schools, 
and especially of city and country teachers. 

We premise the general statement, that among our transatlantic cousins in 
North America, a most praiseworthy effort has been made during a series of 
years, to found and extend a well -organized national school system. Men well 
qualified for the task, and justly appreciating the wants of their country, so rich 
in material resources, — Alexander Dallas Bache, Horace Mann, and above all, at 
a later period, Dr. Henry Barnard of Hartford, in Connecticut, so wisely and per- 
severingly active in laboring to raise the standard of American schools, and whose 
American Journal of Education, elegant in form and rich in matter, we propose 
shortly to discuss — have traveled in Europe with the express purpose of observing 
and knowing for themselves, the school systems of the different countries, and of 
applying the results of their observations to the benefit of their country, by the 
improvement of existing schools and systems, or the foundation of new ones. 

We return to the Philadelphia report for 1850. This contains all necessary 
information respecting organization, number of teachers and scholars, gradation 
of schools in diflerent districts, supervision by district authorities, salaries, other 
expenses, school interiors, (with cuts of several new ones,) &c., &c., all as clear 
and definite in names and numbers, as is to be expected from such a practical 
nation. 

The number of children from six to fifteen years of age, was 54,813; of which 
28,152 were boys, and 26,661 girls. These attended 303 schools, in 24 districts. 
Among these schools are ; a high school with 601 pupils and 16 teachers -, a nor- 
mal school for females, with 196 pupils and 2 male and 6 female teachers ; and a 
school of practice, with 244 pupils, and 4 female teachers. The remainder, pri- 
mary, secondary, gratnmar, and unclassified schools, all belong to the category 
which we call Elementary Schools, People's Schools, (V^oiissc^uZen,) and Burgher 
Schools. The sexes are partly separate and partly mixed, often very unequally. 
E. g., in one secondary school there are 170 girls, and only 14 boys. Generally, 
however, the proportions are nearly equal ; and the whole number of pupils is 
in no school greater than 400, and in most not more than 200. Schools grown 
like an avalanche to 2000 pupils and upwards, are unknown there. 

But in respect to the teachers we find the important and altogether abnormal 
fact, to which this communication is intended to call attention. The whole body 
of teachers in the common schools of Philadelphia, including the normal school 
and school of practice, amounts in all to 935 persons, a number relatively not very 



GERMANY. 

; but hear and wonder : — Among the 935, there are only EionTy-ONE 

HEN. 

All the rest are women. Hear ! Hear ! A city of more than 400,000 inhab- 
itants, the second of the United States in importance, commits the education of 
its male and female youth, until the 14th and 15th year of age, almost exclusively 
to female hands ! Ladies teach not only languages, history and geography, but 
also rhetoric, geometry and algebra, natural philosophy and chemistry ; are at the 
head of large boys' schools, and guide bodies of teachers. And the reason for 
this is to be found, not at all in a different pedagogical system, as might be sup- 
posed, but rather, — as a glance at the teachers' salaries shows — solely or princi- 
pally, because man's capacity values itself at a price higher than the school and 
financial officers wish to pay. A well trained and able man will not sell liiniself 
at a price below that demanded by his self-consciousness, and by his modest and 
reasonable claims to a sufficient living ; i. e., he will not devote himself with all 
he has, is, knows, and is able to do, to the teacher's profession, if more is offered 
from another, perhaps less agreeable, side ; he will not be valued at less by the 
school than by the counting house, the railroad, or the farmer. Hence we see, in 
the list of teachers, no man at less than 600 dollars, (800 thalers,) income. He 
would consider such a one below the dignity of the place to which he should be 
called, or below his own dignity, or as foolish, or something like it. And who 
can blame him for it, how high-soever the " ideals " of life are to be valued ? 

But what may we in Germany, our school boards, parishes, the state — which 
must have as much interest in possessing a body of able teachers as in possessing 
an able army — what may they all learn from the fact spoken of? To endeavor, 
by every means, and in g(x>d season, that the German Common School may not 
fall into a like situation, which would endanger its inmost life. For, highly as we 
esteem the work of women in general, and particularly in the field of education, 
we refuse decidedly, to permit them so abundant a share in the proper school 
work and teacher's office, as that granted — as it appears, by necessity — in Phila- 
delphia. The boy who has passed his eighth year, especially, needs a severer 
discipline; stronger food for his mind, than women can afford him. Single 
exceptions make no rule ; wherefore we dare to entertain some modest doubts of 
the " superior character of the instruction and the high state of di.'scipline," 
which the report, (p. 15,) asserts of the public schools of Philadelphia. We want 
men in our German school, and men in the fullest and best sense of the word : sui-e 
in the needed knowledge, firm in character, decided and persevering in their en- 
deavor for higher objects, warm and faithful in their love of children, men of clear 
mind, of noble and pious heart ; religious without hypocrisy, or fear of man, 
genuine and true sons of their country, whose welfare and" honor is their own. 
To gain and to keep such men for the school, state and parish, must not be 
niggard ; else the best will leave it, and only the weak will remain ; the women, 
and the woman-like, who indeed will do far less than women who strive with en- 
thusiasm after the high aim of their vocation. Let us then no longer hesitate, 
when the values of money and of the necessities of life, have undergone such 
important changes, to re-adjust and increase the salaries of teachers, in order to 
escape the danger which threatens that they will sink into poverty and distress, 
and that thus the inner life of the schools, and with it that of our youth, the hope 
of future ages, will be necessarily destroyed. Thus we conclude, with the warn- 
ing call of the Roman state in time of danger : Videant consules, ne quid deiri- 
inenti respublica capiat .'" 



THE KINDERGARTEN SYSTEM. 39 

THE KINDERGARTEN SYSTEM.* 

Froebel first gave the name of Kindergarten about the year 1840 to his school 
of young children between three and seven years of age at Blankenburg, near 
Rudolstadt. Its purpose is thus briefly indicattid by himself: — "To take the 
oversight of children before they are ready for school life; to exert an influence 
over their whole being in correspondence with its nature; to strengthen their 
bodily powers ; to exercise their senses ; to employ the awakening mind ; to 
make them thoughtfully acquainted with the world of nature and of man ; to 
guide tiieir heart and soul in a right direction, and lead them to the Origin of 
all life and to union with Him." To secure those objects, the child must be 
placed under the influence of a properly trained governess for a portion of the 
day after reaching the age of three. 

Froebel differs from Pestalozzi, who thought that the mother, as the natural 
educator of the child, ought to retain the sole charge up to the sixth or seventh 
year. This necessarily narrows the child's experience to the family circle, and 
excludes in many cases the mutual action and reaction of children upon each 
other — under conditions most favorable to development. Mr. Payne embodies 
the genesis of Frijebel's system in his own mind as follows : 

Let us imagine Frcebel taking his place amidst a number of children disport- 
ing themselves in the open air without any check upon their movements. After 
booking on the pleasant scene awhile, he breaks out into a soliloquy : 

" What exuberant life ! What mimeasurable enjoyment! What unbounded 
activity ! What an evolution of physical forces ! What a harmony between the 
inner and the outer life ! What happiness, health, and strength ! Let me look 
a little closer. What are these children doing ? The air rings musically with 
their shouts and joyous laughter. Some are running, jumping, or bounding 
along, with eyes like the eagle's bent upon its prey, after the ball whicli a 
dexterous hit of the bat sent flying among them ; others are bending down 
towards the ring filled witii marbles, and endeavoring to dislodge them from 
their position ; others are running friendly races with their hoo|)s ; others again, 
with arms laid across each other's shoulders, are quietly walking and talking 
together upon some matter in which they evidently have a common interest. 
Their natural fun gushes out from eyes and lips. 1 hear what they say. It is 
simply . expressed, amusing, generally intelligent, and often even witty. But 
there is a small group of children yonder, 'i'hey seem eagerly intent on some 
subject. What is it 1 I see one of them has taken a fruit fVom his pocket. He 
is showing it to his fellows. They look at it and admire it. It is now to them. 
They wish to know more about it — to handle, smell, and taste it. The owner 
gives it into their hands ; they feel and smell, but do not taste it. They give it 
back to the owner, his right to it being generally admitted. He bites it, the 
rest looking eagerly on to watch the result. His face shows that he likes the 
taste; his eyes grow brighter with satisfaction. The rest desire to make his 
experience their own. He sees their desire, breaks or cuts the fruit in pieces, 
which he distributes among them. He adds to his own pleasure by sharing in 
theirs. Suddenly a loud shout from some other part of the ground attracts the 
attention of the group, which scatters in all directions. Let me now consider. 
What does all this manifold movement — this exhibition of spontaneous energy — 
really mean ? To me it seems to have a profound meaning. 

" It means — 

" 1 . That there is an immense external development and exp.insion of 
energy of various kinds— physical, intellectual, and moral. Liinl)S, s^n^v^i, 
lungs, tongues, minds, hearts, are all at work — all cooperating to produce the 
general effect. 

♦Lecture delivered at the College of Preceptors at London, Feb. 25th, 1874, by Joseph Payne, 
Professor of the Science and Art of Education to the Collcire. 



40 THE KINDERGARTEN SYSTEM. 

" 2. That activity — doing — is the common characteristic of this development 
of force. 

"3. That spontaneity — absolute freedom from outward control — appears to 
be both impulse and law to the activity. 

" 4. That the harmonious coml>ination and interaction of spontaneity and 
activity constitute the happiness which is apparent. The will to do prompts 
the doing ; the doing reacts on the will. 

"5. That the resulting happiness is independent of the absolute value of the 
exciting cause. A bit of stick, a stone, an apple, a marble, a hoop, a top, as 
soon as they become objects of interest, call out the activities of the whole being 
quite as effectually as if they were matters of the greatest intrinsic value. It is 
the action upon them — the doing something with them — that invests them with 
interest. 

" 6. That this spontaneous activity generates happiness because the result is 
gained by the children's own efforts, without external interference. What they 
do themselves and for themselves, involving their own personal experience, and 
therefore exactly measured by their own capabilities, interests them. What 
another, of trained powers, standing on a different platform of advancement, 
does /or them, is comparatively uninteresting. If such a person, from whatever 
motive, interferes with their spontaneous activity, he arrests the movement of 
their forces, quenches their interest, at least for the moment ; and they resent 
the interference. 

" Such, then, appear to be the manifold meanings of the boundless spontaneous 
activity that I witness. But what name, after all, must I give to the totality of 
the phenomena exhibited before me? I must call them Flay. Play, then, is 
spontaneous activity ending in the satisfaction of the natural desire of the child 
for pleasure — for happiness. Play is the natural, the appropriate hisiness and 
occupation of the child left to his own resources. The child that does not play, is 
not a perfect child. He wants something — sense-organ, limb, or generally what 
we imply by the term health — to make up our ideal of a child. The healthy 
child plays — plays continually — cannot but play. 

" But has this instinct for play no deeper significance 7 Is it appointed by the 
Supreme Being merely to fill up time — merely to form an occasion for fruitless 
exercise? — merely to end in itself? No! I see now that it is the constituted 
means for the unfolding of all the child's powers. It is through play that he 
learns the use of his limbs, of all his bodily organs, and with this use gains 
health and strength. Through play he comes to know the external world, the 
physical qualities of the objects which surround him, their motiorxs, action, and 
re-action upon each other, and the relation of these phenomena to himself; a 
knowledge which forms the basis of that which will be his permanent stock for 
life. Through play, involving associateship and combined action, he begins to 
recognize moral relations, to feel that he cannot live for himself alone, that he is 
a member of a community, whose rights he must acknowledge if his own are to 
be acknowledged. In and through ])lay, moreover, he learns to contrive means 
for securing his ends; to invent, construct, discover, investigate, to bring by 
imagination the remote near, and, further, to translate the language of facts 
into the language of words, to learn the conventionalities of his mother tongue. 
Play, then, I see, is the means by which the entire being of the child develops 
and grows into power, and, therefore, does not end in itself. 

" But an agency which effects results like these is an education agency ; and 
Plai/, therefore, resolves itself i7ito education; education which is independent of 
the formal teacher, which the child virtually gains for and by himself. This, 
then, is the outcome of all that I have observed. The child, through the spon- 
taneous activity of all his natural forces, is really developing and strengthening 
them for future use ; he is working out his own education. 

" But what do I, who am constituted by the demands of society as the formal 
educator of these children, learn from the insight I have thus gained into their 
nature ? I learn this — that I must educate them in conformitv with that nature. 
I must continue, not supersede, the course already begun ; my own course must 
be based upon it. I must recognize and adopt the^ princip"les involved in it, 
and frame my laws of action accordingly. Above all, I must not neutralize and 
deaden that spontaneity which is the mainspring of all the machinery ; I must 
rather encourage it, while ever opening new fields for its exercise, and giving it 



THE KINDERGARTEN SYSTEM. 41 

new directions. Play, spontaneous play, is the education of little children ; but 
it is not the whole of their education. Their life is not to be made u]) of play. 
Can I not then even now gradually transform their play into work, but work 
which shall look like play 'i — work which shall originate in the same or similar 
impulses, and exercise the same energies as I see employed in their own amuse- 
ments and occupations^ Play, however, is a random, desultory education. It 
lays the essential basis; but it does not raise the superstructure. It requires to 
be organized for this purpose, but so organized that the superstructure shall be 
strictly related and conformed to the original lines of the foundation. 

"/ see that these children delight in movement; — they are always walking, or 
running, jumping, hopping, tossing their limbs about, and, moreover, they are 
pleased with rythmical movement. I can contrive motives and means for the 
same exercise of the limbs, which shall result in increased physical power, and 
consequently in health — shall train the children to a conscious and measured 
command of their bodily functions, and at the same time be accompanied by the 
attraction of rythmical sound through song or instrument. 

"/ see that theif use their senses; but merely at the accidental solicitation of 
surrounding circumstances, and therefore imperfectly. I can contrive means for 
a definite education of the senses, which shall result in increased quickness of 
vision, hearing, touch, etc. I can train the purblind eye to take note of delicate 
shades of color, the dull ear to appreciate the minute differences of sound. 

"/ see that thet/ observe; but their observations are for the most part transitory 
and indefinite, and often, therefore, comparatively unfruitful. I can contrive 
means for concentrating their attention by exciting curiosity and interest, and 
educate them in the art of observin*,'. They will thus gain clear and definite 
perceptions, bright images in the ])laca of blurred ones, — will learn to recognize 
the difference between complete and incomplete knowledge, and gradually 
advance from the stage of merely knowing to that of knowing that they know. 

" I see th'U iheif invent and construct; but often awkwardly and aimlessly. I 
can avail myself of this instinct, and open to it a definite field of action. I 
shall prompt them to invention, and train them in the art of construction. 
The materials I shall use for this end, will be simple ; but in combining them 
together for a purpose, they will enjoy not only their knowledge of form, but 
their imigination of the capabilities of form. In various ways I shall prompt 
them to invent, construct, contiive, imitate, and in doing so develop their nascent 
taste for symmetry and beauty. 

"And so in respect to other domains of that child-action which we call play, I 
see that I can make these domains also my own. I can convert children's activi- 
ties, energies, amusements, occupations, all that goes by the name of play, into 
instruments for my purpose, and, therefore, transform play into work.' This 
work will be education in the true sense of the term. The conception of it as 
such I have gained from the children themselves. They have taught me how I 
am to teach them. 

fr<ebel's theory in practice. 
I must endeavor to give some notion of the manner in which Frccbel reduced 
his theory to practice. In doing this, the instances I bring forward must be 
considered as typical. If you admit — and you can hardly do otherwise — the 
reasonableness of the theory, as founded on the nature of things, you can hardly 
doubt that there is some method of carrying it out. Now, a method of educa- 
tion involves many processes, all of which must represent more or less the 
principles which form the basis of the method. It is quite out of my power, for 
want of time, to describe the various processes which exhibit to us the little child 
pursuing his education by walking to rhythmic measure, by gymnastic exercises 
generally, learning songs by heart and singing them, practising his senses with a 
definite purpose, observing the properties of objects, counting, getting notions of 
color and form, drawing, building with cubical blocks, modeling in wax or clay, 
braiding slips of various colored paper after a pattern, pricking or cutting forms 
in paper, curving wire into different shapes, folding a sheet of paper -md gaining 



42 THE KINDERGARTEN SYSTEM. 

elementary notions of geometry, learning the resources of the mother-tongue by 
hearing and relating stories, fables, etc., dramatizing, guessing riddles, working in 
the garden, etc., etc. These are only some of the activities naturally exhibited 
by young children, and these the teacher of young children is to employ for his 
purpose. As, however, they are so numerous, I may well be excused for not 
even attempting to enter minutely into them. But there is one series of objects 
and exercises therewith connected, expressly devised by Frcebel to teach the art 
of observing, to which, as being typical, I will now direct your attention. He 
calls these objects, which are gradually and in orderly succession introduced to 
the child's notice, Gifts, — a pleasant name, which is, however, a mere accident 
of the system : they might equally well be called by any other name. 

GIFTS FOR THE CULTURE OF OBSERVATION. 

As introductory to the series, a ball made of wool, of say a scarlet color, is 
placed before the baby. It is rolled along before him on the table, thrown along 
the floor, tossed into the air, suspended from a string, and used as a pendulum, 
or spun around on its axis, or made to describe a circle in space, etc. It is then 
given into his hand ; he attempts to grasp it, fails ; tries again, succeeds ; rolls 
it along the floor himself, tries to throw it, and, in short, exercises every power 
he has upon it, always pleased, never wearied in doing something or other with 
it. This is play, but it is play which resolves itself into education. He is gain- 
ing notions of color, form, motion, action and re-action, as well as of muscular 
sensibility. And all the while the teacher associates words with things and 
actions, and, by constantly employing words in their proper sense and in the 
immediate presence of facts, initiates the child in the use of his mother-tongue. 
Thus, in a thousand ways, the scarlet ball furnishes sensations and perceptions 
for the substratum of the mind, and suggests fitting language to express them; 
and even the baby appears before us as an observer, learning the properties of 
things by personal experience. 

Then comes the^rs^ Gift. It consists of six soft woolen balls of six different 
colors, three primary and three secondary. One of these is recognized as like, 
the others as unlike, the ball first known. The laws of similarity and dis- 
crimination are called into action ; sensation and perception grow clearer and 
stronger. I cannot particularize the numberless exercises that are to be got out 
of the various combinations of these six balls. 

The second Gift consists of a sphere, cube, and cylinder, made of hard wood. 
What was a ball before, is now called a sphere. The different material gives 
rise to new experiences ; a sensation, that of hardness, for inst.ance, takes 
the place of softness; while varieties of form suggest resemblance and contrast. 
Similar experiences of likeness and unlikeness are suggested by the behavior of 
these different objects. The easy rolling of the sphere, the sliding of the cube, 
the rolling as well as sliding of the cylinder, illustrate this point. Then the 
examination of the cube, especially its surfaces, edges, and angles, which any 
child can observe for himself, suggest new sensations and their resulting per- 
ceptions. At the same time, notions of space, time, form, motion, relativity 
in general, take their place in the mind, as the unshaped blocks which, whea 
fitly compacted together, will lay the firm foundation of the understanding. 
These elementary notions, as the very groundwork of mathematics, will be seen 
to have their use as time goes on. 

The third Gift is a large cube, making a whole, which is divisible into eight 



THE KINDERGARTEN SYSTEM. 43 

small ones. The form is recognized as that of the cube before seen ; the size is 
different. But the new experiences consist in notions of relativity — of the whole 
in its relation to the parts, of the parts in their relation to the whole ; and thus 
the child acquires the notion and the names, and both in immediate connection 
with the sensible objects, of halves, quarters, eighths, and of how many of the 
small divisions make one of the larger. But in connection with the third Gift a 
new faculty is called forth — imagination, and with it the instinct of construction 
is awakened. The cubes are mentally transformed into blocks ; and with them 
building commences. The constructive faculty suggests imitation, but rests not 
in imitation. It invents, it creates. Those eight cubes, placed in a certain 
relation to each other, make a long seat, or a seat with a back, or a throne for 
the Queen ; or again, a cross, a doorway, etc. Thus does even play exhibit the 
characteristics of art, and "conforms (to use Bacon's words) the outward show 
of things to the desires of the mind " ; and thus the child, as I said before, not 
merely imitates, but creates. And here, I may remark, that the mind of the 
child is far less interested in that which another mind has embodied in ready pre- 
pared forms, than in the forms which he conceives, and gives outward expression 
to, himself He wants to employ his own mind, and his whole mind, upon the 
object, and does not thank you for attempting to deprive him of his rights. 

The fourth, fifth, and sixth Gifts consist of the cube variously divided into 
solid parallelepipeds, or brick-shaped forms, and into smaller cubes and prisms. 
Observation is called on with increasing strictness, relativity appreciated, and 
the opportunity afforded for endless manifestations of constructiveness. And 
all the while impressions are forming in the mind, which, in due time, will bear 
geometrical fruits, and fruits, too, of sesthetic culture. The dawning sense of 
the beautiful, as well as of the true, is beginning to gain consistency and power. 

I cannot further dwell on the numberless modes of manipulation of which 
these objects are capable, nor enter further into the groundwork of principles 
on which their efficiency depends. 

OBJECTIONS TO THE SYSTEM CONSIDERED. 

It is said, for instance, without proof, that we demand too much from little 
children, and, with the best intentions, take them out of their depth. This 
might be true, no doubt, if the system of means adopted had any other basis 
than the nature of the children ; if we attempted theoretically, and without 
regard to that nature, to determine ourselves what they can and what they can- 
not do; but when we constitute spontaneity as the spring of action, and call 
on them to do that, and that only, which they can do, which they do of their 
own accord when they are educating themselves, it is clear that the objection 
falls to the ground. The child who teaches himself never can go out of his 
depth ; the work he actually does is that which he has strength to do ; the load 
he carries cannot but be fitted to the shoulders that bear it, for he has gradually 
accumulated its contents by his own repeated exertions. This increasing burden 
is, in short, the index and result of his increasing powers, and commensurate 
with them. The objector in this case, in order to gain even a plausible foothold 
for his objection, must first overthrow the radical principle, that the activities, 
amusements, and occupations of the child, left to himself, do indeed constitute 
his earliest education, and that it is an education which he virtually gives himself. 

Another side of this objection, which is not unfrequently presented to us, 
derives its plausibility from the assumed incapacity of children. The objector 
points to this child or that, and denounces him as stupid and incapable. Can 



44 TUE KINDERGARTEN SYSTEM. 

the objector, however, take upon himself to declare that this or that child has 
not been made stupid even by the very means employed to teach him ? The 
test, however, is a practical one : Can the child play ? If he can play, in the 
sense which I have given to the word, he cannot be stupid. In his play he 
employs the very faculties which are required for his formal education. " But 
he is stupid at his books." If this is so, then the logical conclusion is, that the 
books have made him stupid, and you, the objector, who have misconceived his 
nature, and acted in direct contradiction to it, are yourself responsible for this. 

" But he has no memory. He cannot learn what I tell him to learn." No 
memory! Cannot learn! Let us put that to the test. Ask him about the 
pleasant holiday a month ago, when he went nutting in the woods. Does he 
remember nothing about the fresh feel of the morning air, the joyous walk to 
the wood, the sunshine which streamed about his path, the agreeable companions 
with whom he chatted on the way, the incidents of the expedition, the climb up 
the trees, the bagging of the plunder"? Are all these matters clean gone out of 
his mind ? " Oh, no, he remembers things like these." Then he has a memory, 
and a remarkably good one. He remembers because he was inteifested ; and if 
you wish him to remember your lessons, you must make them interesting. He 
will certainly learn what he takes an interest in. 

I need not deal with other objections. They all resolve themselves into the 
category of ignorance of the nature of the child. When public opinion shall 
demand such knowledge from teachers as the essential condition of their taking 
in hand so delicate and even profound an art as that of training children, all 
these objections will cease to have any meaning. 

My close acquaintance with Frcebel's theory, and especially with his root-idea, 
is comparatively recent. But when I had studied it as a theory, and witnessed 
something of its practice, I could not but see at once that I had been throughout 
an unconscious disciple, as it were, of the eminent teacher. The plan of my 
own course of lectures on the Science and Art of Education was, in fact, con- 
structed in thought before I had at all grasped the Frobelian idea ; and was, in 
that sense, independent of it. 

The Kindergarten is gradually making its waj"- in England, without the 
achievement as yet of any eminent success; but in Switzerland, Holland, Italy, 
and the United States, as well as in Germany, it is rapidly advancing. Wher- 
ever the principles of education, as distinguished from its practice, are a matter 
of study and thought, there it prospers. Wherever, as in England for the most 
part, the pmctical alone is considered, and where teaching is thought to be "as 
easy as lying," any system of education founded on psychological laws must be 
tardy in its progress. 

"The Kindergarten has not only to supply the proper materials and oppor- 
tunities for the innate mental powers, which, like leaves and blossoms in the 
bud, press forward and impel the children to activity, with so much the more 
energy the better they are supplied. It has also to preserve children from the harm 
of civilization, which furnishes poison as well as food, temptations as well as 
salvation; and children must be kept from this trial till their mental powers 
have grown equal to its dangers. Much of the success of the Kindergarten 
(invisible at the time) is negative, and consists in preventing harm. Its posi- 
tive success, again, is so simple, that it cannot be expected to attract more notice 
than, for instance, does fresh air, pure water, or the merit of a physician who 
keeps a family in health." — Karl Froebel. 



JOHN FREDERIC HERBART. 



MEMOIR. 

John Frederic Herbart, the philosopher, was born on the 4th 
of May, 1776, at Oldenburg, where his father held the position of 
JuRtizrath. After finishing his preliminary studies at the gymna- 
sium of his native city, he entered the University of Jena. His 
father had intended him for the law, and it was only with difficulty 
that he obtained permission to study philosophy. He soon had 
personal relations with Fichte, whose Wissenschaftslelire (Theory 
of Sciences) awakened in him a spirit of opposition. His inde- 
pendence of thought showed itself in his critique of Schelling's two 
articles, 'On the possibility of a Form of Philosophy,' and 'Of the 
1' (Vom Ich), which he submitted to Fichte. In 1797 he 
accepted the position of private tutor in Berne, and during four 
years continued his studies with his peculiar energy. He consid- 
ered it necessary to return to the original problems of philosophy, 
and studied the philosophy of the ancients, particularly the period 
previous to Socrates and Plato, also mathematics and natural 
sciences, and even at that time laid the foundations of his mathe- 
matical psychology. It was here, too, that he developed his deep 
interest in education. He not only became acquainted with the ped- 
agogical publications of Pestalozzi — The Evening Hour of a Hermit, 
first printed in 1780 ; the first part of Leonard and Gertrude print- 
ed in 1780; Christopher and Alice, issued in 1782, and Figures to 
my A B C Book, published in 1795, but visited in person the great 
Educator himself, at Burgdorf, in 1799, and received from his own 
lips an explanation of the New Education, based on the proper ex- 
ercise and training of the senses, and of the methods by which he 
developed in very young children the ideas of number, form, and 
htnguage. He felt that there were certain deficiencies in the views 
of Pestalozzi which it was his duty to supply. 

In 1800, he returned to Germany, and after a brief residence at 
Bremen, settled in Gottingen. Here, until 1809, when he accepted 
a call from Konigsberg as professor ordinarius of philosophy and 
pedagogy, he published the first results of his mature thought. 



46 JOHN FREDERIC HERB ART. 

Among them may be mentioned ' Pestalozzi's Idea of the ABC 
of Observation Scientifically Treated '—(Gott. 1802, 2d Ed. 1804); 
*De Platonici Systemati Fundamento ;' 'Universal Pedagogy;' 

* On Philosophical Study ;' ' Principles of Metaphysics ;' ' Universal 
Practical Philosophy.' In Konigsberg he divided his time between 
his own researches, his academic duties, and work as a practical 
teacher in directing a seminary of teachers founded at his instance, 
and held after 1812 in his own house. 

In thus uniting under his own roof the advantages of school and 
family, Herbart endeavored to utilize the powerful forces of each 
by making them supplement and assist each other. He saw the 
advantages of each ; but in the school, owing to the number of 
pupils, each one can not receive that care and attention which his 
individual peculiarities call for, while the force of family influence 
is too frequently wasted from the incapacity of those who arc called 
to direct and apply it. His ideal was education in the family, 
guided and assisted by the counsel of an experienced and profes- 
sional teacher, not necessarily residing immediately in the family 
circle, but one whose occasional instruction of the children would 
indirectly find additional strength and usefulness through the co- 
operation of the parents whose daily influence he should assist and 
direct. His ideal method embraced brevity and vividness — the 
first, because children should not be confined long to one position 
or one subject, and the method should find and leave the mind of 
the pupil fresh ; the impression thus made of any subject in even 
a brief period will be worth hours of forced attention. 

Besides a great number of essays and lectures, he published among 
others : * Handbook of Philosophy,' and ' Handbook of Psychology,' 

* Psychology as a Science upon a new basis of Experience, Meta- 
physics and Mathematics,' and 'Universal Metaphysics with the 
Elements of Natural Theology,' and lastly, ' Encyclopedia of Philos- 
ophy from a Practical Point of View.' 

The desire to work in a University with more intellectual life led 
Herbart in 1833 to accept a call back to Gottingen, where he died 
Aug. 14, 1841. While in Gottingen he published several small 
treatises, among which are 'A Plan of Lectures on Pedagogjj,' 
' Lessons on the Theory of the Freedom of the Human Will,' etc. 

His biography is contained in ' Herbart's Minor Philosophical 
Essays and Treatises,' published in 1842-43, by Hartenstcin. A 
complete edition of his works was published by the same editor in 
twelve vols., Leipsic, 1850-52.) 



GERMAN PEDAGOGY. 47 

HERBART, BENEKE, AND FICHTE. 
HcrharVs Ideas of Education. 

[V.i the Journal of Speculative Philosophy for April, 1876, there is a sketch, 
by Dr. Karl Schmidt, of Herbart's Pedagogics, translated by Prof. Hannel 
of St. Louis, We give a few extracts introductory to a more fonual treat- 
ment to appear in a subsequent number of this Journal. The words in brackets 
are partly explanatory and partly critical by the translator.] 

Herbart considers an outside influence upon the person under age necessary 
in orlcr that he may grow mentally in the same [continuous] manner as 
he docs physically, because he (Herbart) maintains, as a principle of his 
psychology, that there are by no means fixed, predetermined capacities 
in the human soul, similar to those in plants and animal bodies; that man- 
only as far as h's body is concerned— brings his future form with his germ 
into the world; that the human soul on the contranj, resembles rather a ma- 
chine entirchj constructed out of jJerceptions. The translator adds in a note: 

["This should read: That the human mind may be made to resemble nn or- 
gaiism, but imder different circumstances with very different degi-ees of per- 
fection and that this mental organism or system is created by the soul out of 
the material furnished to the senses. Herbart liolds that the soul is active, not 
passive, in fonning perceptions out of the momentaiy sensations of color, 
sound a'nd the like, that these elementary sensations are reactions of the soul, 
corresponding' to outside influences; that we know nothing of soul, self, or 
faculties save what we have learned bv induction from the works of the hu- 
man mind; that other faculties— being likewise th- result of work and compar- 
ison—may be produced, purified, and strengthened, but in no other manner than 
by induction, and that the faculties both rs regards their SL^parate functions 
and their joint operation, will approach the closer to the perfection of a li\ing 
organism, or of the system of mathematics, or of a machine, thr^ more thor- 
ou'^hlv we use our en-rgies in the removal of definitelv given difliculties and 
the solution of definitely given problems, first and before such application is 
followed up by broad and exhaustive comparison with other objects operated 
upon by the same energies of the soul; whereas a psychological theory which 
rests satisfied with a number of disconnected faculties for an ultimate basis, 
to the neglect of their unitv in application, and without inquiring into the 
cause of their unity in the soul, is apt to unfit man for the business of life, and 
at best to degrade him to the rank of a laborer, whose sense of freedom, and 
natui-al enthusiasm for unity in the different departments of society is reduced 
to smoking embers."] 

Pedagogics is, according to Herbart, closely connected with ethics and 
psychology; it ready depends upon both. He commences by showing that 
pedagogics depeiid upon ethics, and proves [indirectly] that those opinions are 
erroneous which do not let the process of education begin and continue as well 
as terminate in the individual subject, but which place the pupil in such a 
relation to certain ideal objects (happiness, usefulness, family, State, human- 
ity, God) that the future action? of the individual are defined by such objects 
as the end and aim of educab on. This proceeding has to be reversed, and it 
must be maintained that the individual person is and remains the exclusive 
and true centre for the purjjoses of education. 

Hegel and Herbart agree that the chief end of education is to raise the 
individual to fixed habits of subordinating all to moral activity; neither of 
them proposes to attain that end by the explanation of moral texts; the spirit 
of their systems is evidently in emphasizing correct habits of methodical ob- 
servation and work, which, at the age of mature reflection, may be employed 
in the culture of our moral self, directly and systematically; both undertake 
to educate by means of instruction, and to develop the moral judgment of the 
individual while it is assisted in taking possession of the indispensable results 



48 herbart's ideas of education. 

and conditions of civilization. They further agree that the life of the indi- 
vidual owes fruitfulness and scope to society, while unity and harmony of the 
departments of society rest upon the moral strength of the individuals, and 
furthermore that the perpetuity of life, whether of society or of the individ- 
ual, depends upon the "idea," if we understand by the term '"idea" the cor- 
sciousness of the necessary conditions of such perpetuity. We may therefore 
conclude that if Hegel had elaborated pedagogics himself, the speculative 
problem would have been for him as it was for Herbart, how to realize the 
"idea" within the province of education. Now, though Hegel subordinates 
everything to one absolute idea, while Herbart co-ordinates his five ideas, viz. : 
Freedom, Perfection, Right, Equity, and Benevolence, it is nevertheless not 
difificult to hai-monize the latter five with the one absolute idea, for jiractical 
purposes. For, whereas complementary opposites are equally necess^ary to 
life, and the knowledge thereof to responsibility, non-interference between 
such co-ordinate powers constitutes the basis of rights; compensation in pro- 
portion to the number of complementary opposites united in any purpose and 
multiplied by the number of actual repetitions, constitutes equity of reward 
and pimishments; both, Rights and Equity limited to the domain of intention 
and spiritual intercourse, i. e., where the assistance of physical organs and 
forces is precluded, constitutes Benevolence, the principle of morality in con- 
tradistinction from those applications of Rights and Equity which may be 
enforced ; the agreement between intention and action, both being governed 
as stated above, constitutes individual Freedom. AH subordination is gov- 
erned by the relative term Perfection. Setting aside differences of quantity, 
any one of the complementary opposites is imperfect as compared with their 
unity; the richer unity is perfect in comparison with the object embodying a 
less number of complementary opposites. But whatsoever severs that which 
is jointly necessary for life, liberty and happiness, actually and witli the inten- 
tion of keeping it severed, is physically bad, legally wrong, spiritually untrue, 
and morally sinful. 

The complete work of education may be divided into discipline (Regieruvg), 
instruction (Unterricht), and training (Zucht). The child comes into the 
world without ability to concentrate the action of his organs upon one object, 
to the exclusion of the rest; his individual will is the result of practice; this 
gradual result is interrupted by all manner of disordered inclination; to hold 
the latter within proper bounds, is the ofiice of discipline. What experience 
and society teach, outside of school, is too one-sided and desultory; it is dis- 
connected and fragmentary; a systematic activity must supervene which is 
able to comijlemant, to digest and to unite the material collected as a mere 
aggregate. This methodical business, complementary of experience and 
society, is instruction. The term training {Ziehen, cluco, educo, education) 
contains allusion to that which is not yet existing [the harmony of opposites 
controlling insubordinate tendencies] something hoped for [the strength of the 
complementary opposite, now being weak in the in lividual] which exists only 
as purpose, and toward which the pupil has to be led; this action, devoted 
more especially to the culture of the will, but also, in part, to knowledge and 
understanding, is designated by "training." 

1. It is the office of discipline to keep order, and to subject the naturally 
predominant and unruly inclinations of the individual. Such subjection has 
to be effected by a power strong enough, and acting so frequently as to be com- 
pletely successful, before indications of a genuine will [persisting in wrong] 
are exhibited by the child. Measures within the reach ©f discipline are: 
(a) to keep the pupil so busy that he can find no time for mischief ; (b) detective 



HKRBAr.T'S IDEAS OF EDUCATIOX. 49 

supervision which, however, is useful only during the first years of life, and 
during periods of special danger; (c) commanding and forbidding, with respect 
to which great caution has to be exercised, lest discipline be rather weakened 
by it; id) threats and punishments, which must be superseded by respect and 
love, wherever possible. Discipline [assisted by physical moans] has, at all 
events, to cease long before training ceases, and should, as soon as possible, be 
relieved by the latter. The [apparently] limiting power of discipline [resem- 
bling the restraint of prison] cannot be discontinued so long as great tempta- 
tions ai-e offered to the pupil by his surroundings. 

2. Instruction ought to bo and must bo educative; the aim of mstruction 
s'lould not be solely, or even predominantly, the amoimt of knowledge, nor 
should it be the acquisition of merely technical skill, but culture of the Person- 
ality [executive abihty for ethical ideas]; this most essential part of education 
should be rooted and groimded. To be more definite, instruction is methodical 
production and cultur J of representations of objects [as definitely constructed 
applications of the categories and c*;hical ideas], such representations being the 
true germs from which to develop the unity of all faculties until said element- 
ary unities of object and subject seem to assimilate sttbordina*^e facts with 
spontaneous rapidity, embracing the complementary opposites in such an 
exhaustive manner that executive ability and energy for action are the direct 
result, as well as tact or [more genera-ly] the quijk decision as to the ethico- 
aesthetical value of a given fact. 

3. The term [dialectic] training embraces all direct action upon the disposition 
of the pupil which is prompted by the intent'ou to purify and supplement his 
energies, and to lead him towards objective liberty. Dialectic training has to 
deal [with the limitations of the person fixed by way of inheritance or associa- 
tion] or, in other words, it has to deal with the character of man. Character 
manifests itself by individual preferences [and is two-foid, either objective or 
subjective. The objective portion or factor of character consists of] the indi- 
vidual's partictdar construction of inclination, indicated by the relative pro- 
portion or percentage of action; the subjective factor of character cons'sts in 
the enjoyment of complementary opposites criticising the individual inclina- 
tions. The historical conception of both our objective and subjective charac- 
tar (Sitz- centre of geometrical locus) constitiites the totality of actual energy, 
and th's is produced continuously by mean? of complementary natural desires 
into acts of responsibility. The difference of the causos where »ith pei-sons 
identify themselves, defines such or anotlicr character. It is, u jvertheless, the 
internal act, as described, whether purely internal or whrtlier conceived as 
possibly pxtcmal, which produces balanced energy out of the material of 
desires [in every species of character]. 

Distinct measures of dialectical training [to bo carried into effect by the 
teacher in separate lessons] are required, on accoimt of faults inherent in all 
schooling [more particularly in schooling of a higher order, where the cu tare 
of directive energy by means of composition is not made the leading aim, 
and the necessary faults referred to arise from the fact that sy.stemitic excel- 
lence in the plan of studietj, together -with the best possible standard in the 
separate lessons, cannot alone, and without aid from systematic use of linow'- 
edge in lessons on composition, overcome the discrepancy between the claims 
of practical life and the one-sided ctdture of theoretical or abstract judgment, 
which results from any division of labor by means of teachers, subject-matter, 
time and methorls, without adequate and scientific correction]. 

[The above extracts are not a fair exhibit of Herbart's educatioral views, 
which cannot be presented in isolated p-issages. Ed. of A.. J. E J 



50 BENEKES PSYCHOLOGICAL VIEWS. 

The basis and aim of Beneke's pedagogical views must be found 
in his psychological publications. To establish the phenomena of 
mind on a scientific basis, to discard all uncertain speculation, and 
adhere only to the facts of observation, having ascertained all fixed 
antecedents, and uniform sequences in these phenomena was 
the great aim of all his teaching and all his publications. His 
separate work on Education and Instruction, which is highly valued 
in the best normal schools of Germany, is only the application of 
his psychological views to the work of the school-room. We give 
a brief analysis of his doctrine from two articles in the Museum 
and English Journal of Education of 1865. 

Beneke's System of Psychology. 

Beneke sets down two false notions as the principal obstacles to the scientific 
treatment of psychology. The first one is the practice of regarding the mind 
in its very earliest stage as an aggregate of special faculties. The child is sup- 
posed to have born with him faculties of memory, of understanding, of reason- 
ing, of will, and such like. These faculties are assigned to the child in spite of 
the fact that no one has really observed the infant recollecting, or reasoning, or 
deliberately wilhng. In truth, these faculties do not exist in the child at its 
birth. There is a power called soul, but it does not admit of farther definition. 
It does not become known to us until it acts on the outer world, and it is only 
after long processes, which it is the business of psychology to observe, that it 
reaches the power of deliberate volition or of abstract reasoning. 

But there is a second error which it is equally important to remove. All acts 
of retention are grouped together, and are assigned to a faculty called memory. 
All acts of reasoning are grouped together, and assigned to one faculty, called 
the reasoning facultJ^ And so on with other foculties. But this is a mistake. 
Psychologists like Sir William Hamilton and Mansel, allow that there are no 
such faculties, that the soul is one, and that these faculties are merely conven- 
ient names by which to group together similar phenomena. But the fiction 
leads to gross mistakes, both psychologically and educationally. If there were 
such a faculty as memory, then if a man's memory were good, he would re- 
member every thing well. But we find that the same man remembers words 
well, but forgets ideas, remembers numbers well, but forgets tunes, remembers 
places well, but forgets faces. So we find a critic of art reason soundly, and 
with wonderful acumen and insight, in the region of art, but he foils entirely in 
his reasoning in regard to religion or politics. How can this happen if he has 
ibut one reasoning faculty ? 

The business of psychology, then, is to observe the activities of the human 
-mind, to watch and classify all its acts, avoiding all hasty generalizations. 

Now, in the first stage of the soul's existence here, we know it only as it 
comes into contact with external nature. We are, therefore, first to observe 
what takes place when the mind comes into contact with particular external 
■objects. The results of this observation Beneke gave in what he called the 
.four fundamental processes of the soul. 

The first is, if the soul come into contact with an external object, it forms a 
■sensation or sensuous perception. How it forms this sensation is not a ques- 



BENEKE'S PSYCHOLOGICAL VIEWS. 



61 



tion of psychology, for our consciousness does not speak even of the body as 
the means. We have to deal only with the facts of consciousness. 

The second fundamental process is thus stated by Beneke : " New original 
powers are continually forming themselves in the human soul" The phenom- 
enon which we perceive is this. The mind is employed for the day in percep- 
tions. It at first works vigorously, but gradually its power fails, and, like the 
body, it refuses to act. Sleep, however, comes on, and next morning the mind 
awakens refreshed, reinvigorated, able to form new sensations and percep- 
tions. 

The third process is thus stated : " All developments of our being are on the 
stretch every moment of our lives, to equalize towards each other the movable 
elements which are given in them." The movable elements require explana- 
tion. The result of the activities of the mind on external objects is different. 
In some cases the perceptions are steadfast. They are easily recalled. In other 
cases the perceptions are indistinct, the objects have not clearly impressed them- 
selves on the mind. These become the movable elements. They pass easily 
from one group of perceptions to another. Now, in the case of these movable 
elements, the mind struggles to equalize them. For instance, good news comes 
to me. This feeling of gladness will give a color to all my perceptions which 
are not definitely fixed. The song of the bird will be the expression of its 
happy existence; the sun will smile amidst clouds, all nature will rejoice. 
Again, if I receive a strong impression of an object, the strength of the impres- 
sion will communicate itself to the impression of the next object which I per- 
ceive. 

The last fundamental process which Beneke lays down is, " The same pro- 
ducts of the human soul, and those similar, in proportion to their likeness, at- 
tract each other, and strive to enter into nearer combinations with each other." 

These are the four great fundamental processes of the human mind. Beneke 
rests them entirely on observation, and if our reader has understood them 
thoroughly, he will see how simple they are. These processes take place in 
the three divisions of the soul's activity, which were proposed by Kant, and 
since adopted by most psychologists ; and Beneke applies his knowledge of 
them in explanation of the phenomena of the feelings and conations, as well as 
of those of our cognitions. 

In the first fundamental act there are two factors, — the soul and the external 
object. If we turn our attention to the soul, we find that its capabilities in 
regard to external impressions may be described in a threefold manner. An 
object comes before the soul, and, in consequence, the soul takes a firm, strong 
impression from it. The object becomes firmly fixed in the soul. Or again, if 
an object comes before the soul, the soul seizes it in all its parts, it takes into 
its perception the minute features of the object. Or again, it may, in a speedy 
manner, lay hold of the object. At the earliest stage of the child's soul, it is 
impossible to define exactly what it is, because it is not until vast and compli- 
cated processes have been gone through, that the soul reaches the state in 
which we know it well. Therefore, Beneke does not assign to the soul, in its 
earliest stages, any of the latent powers commonly ascribed to it. He deals 
with it in its earliest stages, simply as its activity in sensations and percep- 
tions exhibits it, and he generalizes the results in these three qualities, — 
strength, sensitiveness and liveliness. This generalization we consider of im- 



52 BENEKE'S PSYCHOLOGICAL VIEWS. 

mense value to the educator. If he watches his slow pupils carefully, with 
these characteristics in his mind, he will often be able to lay his hand at once 
on the detect that prevents progress. If the boy does not receive a strong im- 
pression from an external object, he can not remember it well ; he can not recol- 
lect it when he is required to do so. This quality of the mind is the most essen- 
tial to thought, and cliaracteristic of the manly intellect. If the mind, again, is 
not sufficiently sensitive, it will fail to form a minutely accurate notion of the 
object. This quality is characteristic of the female mind, and is not an unmixed 
good, if not combined with a sufficient amount of strength. If the mind does 
not take an impression in sufficient time, another object forces itself on the 
mind, a mere half-impression is produced, an^ the result is a weakening of the 
power of the mind. Or if the mind is too lively, and takes its impression too 
fast, there may be a deficiency of strength, and the pupil may be as ill off as 
the slowest in the class. Dunces, therefore, may be defective in tlie strength 
of their impressions, in the sensitiveness of their minds, in the too great slow- 
ness or fastness with which they receive impressions. These defects are defects 
of degree, and though it is in these qualities that one soul originally differs 
from another, yet much may be done by the teacher who has studied the matter 
psychologically to increase the strength and regulate the liveliness of the pupil's 
impressions. 

What adds to, or rather creates, the deep importance of attention to these 
qualities, is another doctrine which Beneke has established in a completely scieuT 
tific manner. This doctrine is, that the only possibility of the soul's progress 
to a higher stage, is the thorough accomplishment of the work in the previous 
stage. At the first stage the child is predominantly sensuous. Unless his 
senses he fully exercised, unless he accomplish his intuitions eflfeetivelj', unless, 
in one word, he has made many clear, strong intuitions in the course of his 
childhood, the second portion of his life's intellectual work Avill be badly per- 
formed. In the second stage, the boy becomes reproductive ; and here, again, 
unless the reproductions are done thoroughly, and repeated often enough, it is 
impossible to acquire any thing like perfection in the third, or highest stage, the 
productive. If we observe a child's progress in his intuitions, and his move- 
ment from these to reproduction, we shall see the reason of all this. A child 
looks at a tree for the first time. He looks only for an exceedingly short time. 
He has had some sensation in consequence, which must leave some trace in the 
mind, however indefinite it may be. After an interval he looks again at the 
tree, and there ari.ses a similar sensation, which, by the fourth fundamental pro- 
cess, blends with the trace of the first. After these sensations have been multi- 
plied to a great extent, by a law which Beneke works out scientifically, the 
child at length perceives an object which we call a tree. Having made this per- 
ception, however, he could not recall the tree in his mind if he wished. But he 
makes the perception or intuition again and again ; and he must make it a cer- 
tain number of times, more or less (the number being dependent on the strength, 
sensitiveness, and liveliness of the soul), before he can reproduce the tree with- 
out the presence of the object. Now, after he has acquired the power of re- 
producing one tree, he must learn to reproduce others ; and he can not form a 
notion of a tree, abstracted from all individual trees, until he has reproduced a 
considerable number of individual trees with tolerable exactness. He can not 
become a thinker in any department, until he has gained the power of repro- 



BENEKE'S PSYCHOLOGICAL VIEWS. 



53 



duction in that particular department. Hence, also, the scientific establishment 
of the law in education, that the teacher must resolutely, and with great 
patience, practice the pupil in the concrete, before he proceeds to the abstract. 
Education must be primarily inductive, if it is to be successful. The pupil must 
be furnished in every study with numerous individual instances, before ho can 
be fit to make the generalizations for himself; and to furnish him with general- 
izations before he knows the instances, or even at the same time, is not to edu- 
cate him, but to throw obstacles in the way of his education. 

If we turn now from the soul to the other factor, the external object, in the 
first fundamental proces.s, we shall find that it is calculated to affect the soul in 
five different ways. The object may produce a satisfactory impression, and then 
we have a perception. I look at*a tree in daylight, I see it, and am satisfied. 
Again, it may produce an impression, accompanied with distinctly felt pleasure. 
I look at a beautiful face. I see it, and, more than that, I feel exquisite plea- 
sure at the sight of it. In proportion, however, to the pleasure of which I am 
conscious, is my perception less distinct, and if I turn immediately away from 
it, possibly I could describe it only in the most vague terms, — terms indicative 
more of my pleasure than of its exact form. But then there is this difference 
between the object that simply satisfies, and that which excites pleasure. I at 
once dismiss the object that satisfies the mind, and do not care whether it re- 
turns or not. But I long for the return of the object which gives me pleasure 
and as it returns again and again, I come to know it more completely, even in its 
various features. But there are objects that at first stimulate the mind plea- 
surably, but being permitted to act too long on it, create satietj-, or even dis- 
gust. In that case, the mind has not received a satisfying perception of the 
object, but at the same time it has not only no desire to return to it, but positive 
aversion to it. The effect, consequently, is a weakening of the mind to this 
extent. Or again, the object is not calculated to produce a full impression. 
The light, for instance, is deficient. I look on an object at a distance in dim 
starlight. I see it indistinctly. The impression produced on my mind is un- 
satisfactory. I have gained no real knowledge. So far the mind is weakened. 
Again, I gaze at the sun in its full blaze. The result is that I see nothing, but 
my eyes are dazzled, and I feel pain. There are thus five effects: a satisfactory 
intuition, an intuition accompanied with pleasure, an intuition accompanied with 
satiety, a defective intuition, and an intuition accompanied with pain. The 
first two strengthen the mind, the other three weaken it. The teacher must 
present his pupils only with the first two ; the other three hinder his work. And, 
indeed, the division will apply to more things than intuitions. If the lesson given 
by a teacher produces either satiety or pain, or supplies the pupil only with half- 
impressions, his work has been useless, and the boy would have been stronger in 
mind if the lesson had not been given. In every lesson the teacher must either 
satisfy the boy's mind, and then the knowledge will abide for some time, and 
become the basis of further knowledge ; or he must stimulate the boy through 
pleasurable excitement, and then, though he may not remember so much of the 
instruction, there has been planted in his heart a craving for farther enlighten- 
ment, which may turn out to be more important than any particular knowledge 
communicated to him. 

These views, and similar views, are elaborately set forth by Beneke in his 
Erziehungs-und-Unterrichtslehre. 



g^ BENEKE S PEDAGOGICAL VIEWS. 

INSTRUCTION — ITS CHARACTER AND REIiATIONS TO EDUCATION.* 

1. The Fundamental C harader of Instruction. — Education has for its function 
to raise the reason which is not cultivated at all, or less cultivated, to the posi- 
tion of that which is cultivated, and has therefore principally to do with the 
mind or subject. The objects which act on the mind have also a training 
power; in fact, at last all training is limited by what is external, though not 
less so, and indeed much more so, by the nature of the mind itself. But one 
and the same thing can train in difterent degrees in different relations. "What 
is important for objective training, may be unimportant for subjective, or even 
may have a detrimental influence ; and what, on the other hand, is less impor- 
tant for the comprehension and acquisition 'of external elements, may have a 
deep influence on the formation of the mind. 

kin contrast, therefore, with education, the function of instruction is to impart 
that which is objective. All its peculiarities can be inferred from this: its 
having to do more with single operations ; the circumstance that these opera- 
tions are so marked that they can begin and cease at a definite time ; its capa- 
bility of exhausting what lies within a limited region ; of its proceeding from a 
single object with more determined intention; and of its being communicated 
to a greater number at once. 

This definition gives the most general limits of instruction. Its principal 
objects are, according to this, representations and external capabilities. The 
external capabilities, such as walking, dancing and writing, are included, because 
it is through representations that they can be learned fully. For instance, 
writing is teachable on account of the perceptions which the pupil can make 
of the teacher's writing and of his own. 

In regard to representations, it is external objects which first form the objects 
of instruction. They form for us the first objects. Along with them we com- 
prehend the connections and other relations which exist amongst them ; such 
as those of space and time ; the relations of continual juxtaposition ; of cause 
and effect; of number; as well as the more abstract relations of degree; of size; 
&c. • and in consequence of these being able to be apprehended along with ex- 
ternal objects, they also can become the objects of instruction. And this does 
not exhaust the province of instruction even in regard to external objects, for 
it embraces also the working up, not merely of single representations, but of 
their combinations and relations to knowledges of every kind. And it goea 
beyond the immediate apprehensions of objects into logical combinations, for 
while we are in a position to produce similar combinations in others with a kind 
of compulsion, there can be no doubt that such can become the objects of in- 
struction. 

This leads into another and very wide province, which instruction rules at 
least in part. Our inner being can become an object to us. This takes place 
through a peculiar formation of notions which, introduced by the similarity of 
the qualities and relations and modes of growth of the mind, brings forth in 
special acts what is universal in these relations for our consciousness. Through 
these acts, that is, notions relating to mental qualities, relations, and modes of 
growth, is formed what is commonly called our inner sense, but which would 

• Erzichunffs-und- Unterrichtslehre. 



BENEKE'S PEDAGOGICAL VIEWS. 55 

be better called our inner senses, by means of which we are in a position to 
comprehend acts of a similar nature. In consequence of them, therefore, all 
evolutions of our inner being, whatever form they may have originally, assume 
the form of representation, or become objects for us, and thus tliey can be 
drawn into the province of instruction. 

The whole inner world, it is true, does not lie within the province of instruc- 
tion, but only so far as the individual element can be struck out and a universal 
representation gained in consequence of the power of forming notions already 
mentioned, and only so far is a communication of it possible ; nay, only so far 
as the person to be instructed has in himself the elementary preparations for 
that which we are to impart to him. Above all, then, the universal prede- 
termined laws, which are the same in all men, such as those of logic, 
Eesthetics, morality, and religion, &c., can be evolved nolionally, and thus 
become objects of instruction : and so also can even other mental phenomena, 
which take different forms in different individuals, even feelings and conations. 

But it is evident that the province of instruction in this respect is much 
more limited than that of education. Take, for instance, the branch where it 
has the widest reach, namely ajsthetic instruction, such as can be imparted 
through the reading and exposition of poetical works, through instruction in 
music, as well as through pictures and statues. The apprehension of these 
takes place in a similar manner in all, so far as the objective is concerned, yet 
not with equal perfection, delicacy, freshness, liveliness, and spirituality. And 
without doubt the communication of these would be more valuable, and more 
important in regard to the real training of the mind. But for these a certain 
equality of inborn talents (not communicable therefore by one to another) is 
requisite, and a certain equality in the previous circumstances of training ; two 
equalities, therefore, which, even where a possibility of communicating them 
exists, would fall, not to the province of instruction, but to that of education. 

Still more decidedly is this the case in regard to morality and religion. In- 
struction can venture here only to form, combine, and apply the notions or 
represexitaiions which relate to both. And although these are assuredly of 
some value in themselves, yet it is unquestionably not these that are to be 
considered as most valuable, nor as the most important for the training of 
youth, nor as the peculiar end of education in these two departments; but it is 
the lively moral feelings and impulses, the disposition which arises in conse- 
quence of these, and the deep religious tone of the soul. From these feelings 
indeed there lies a plain and open way to the notions or representations, but 
from the notions or representations there is no road to the feelings. For the 
lively and the fresh must come before the notions, according to the fundamental 
relations of mental evolution. The particular evolutions can be melted and 
formed into notions by abstraction, but the reverse process, that of dissolving 
notions into particular evolutions, and into particular evolutions of the requisite 
freshness, force, and completeness, has not yet been discovered by any one, 
however much the possibility of it has been presupposed in pedagogic theories. 
For establishing lively feelings, impulses, dispositions, therefore, there li& 
before us, so long as we are in the province of instruction, not only difficulties^ 
but an absolute impossibility. What is aimed at can be attained only through 
education, by placing the pupils in those relations of life which are the 
necessary conditions, more or less, of the required evolutions from the com- 



56 BENEKE'S PEDAGOGICAL VIEWS. 

mencement. Instruction can merely, while circling round the shrines of 
morality and religion, describe and glorify their treasures ; the pupil can be 
made a partaker of them only through that more lively and more penetrating 
activity which constitutes education. 

2. Education through instruction. — Through the investigations of the previous 
paragraph, we are now in a position to give a definite answer to the question 
if instruction can educate, and how far. Of all the evolutions of our mind 
there remain behind traces, and these traces are powers, and so far, therefore, 
there is through all instruction an inner or subjective shaping of the mind pro- 
duced, the very thing at which education aims. But the question then occurs, 
"Whether this inner shaping, this formation of the subjective, is important and 
joyful ; whether the traces which remain behind, have the adequate strength, 
liveliness, and intensity which make them desirable developments of the inner 
njpntal being ; whether they mingle and work together with one another in 
relations promotive of progress ; and whetlier in this way all kinds of inner 
progress which education aims at, are to be attained ? 

In order to gain perfect exactness in the determination of these questions, 
we must distinguish three things : the education which is attached to instruc- 
tion immediately and essentially ; the education which comes alongside of the 
instruction, or takes place through that which the teacher says or does in 
addition to what properly belongs to his duties as an instructor; and, finally, 
we have the results that may arise from special arrangements which are made 
for instruction, such, for instance, as are made in instruction in schools. 

Of these three elements, we can take no notice of the last. The second is 
seen at the first glance to be entirely different in different circumstances. It 
depends on the individuality of the teacher whether it appears at all, and in 
what way and to what extent ; and it also depends, on the other hand, not less ■ 
on the individuality of the scholar. To take a nearer view of this matter, we 
can bring the influences that bear on it under four general heads. 

First, an educating influence can be exercised on the scholars in immediate 
connection with the objects of instruction by the zeal of 'the teacher, by the 
liveliness and continuity which he displays, and by the scientific spirit which in- 
forms his instructions, for these qualities are transferred to the scholars, some- 
times unconsciously and instinctively, and sometimes in more conscious repre- 
sentation and feeling. While he has these qualities of his teacher continually 
before him, he forms them in himself along with the objects of instruction, by 
means of that which he possesses in an elementary state similar to these ; and 
the traces which remain behind of these, become gradually in him permanent 
qualities. It is plain from this that this training may be oflen of greater im- 
portance than the subject matter which the instruction communicates. Hereby 
there is introduced into the scholar a special power of estimating the moral 
worth of things, which, according to the measure of its strength, its purity, its 
liveliness, and its harmonious agreement with other motives, may exercise an 
exceedingly important moral influence for the whole of life. 

But, secondly, the teacher, besides what he may introduce immediately into 
his teaching from his inner being, is something more. He has a character, an 
individuality, and these can manifest themselves during instruction in the most 
manifold ways, and can also be reflected in the scholars where the preparatory 
capabilities exist. It is these that principally determine the tone of the teacher; 



BENEKE'S PEDAGOGICAL VIEWS. §7 

the expression of the united intellectual and moral individuality and disposition 
of the teacher. It is well known that teachers differ much from each other in 
tliis respect. While many, during instruction, simply let the object speak 
through itselfj others continually are mingling up with it themselves or their 
personality more or less, relating the circumstances of their lives, their adven- 
tures, their feelings, and their doings. "Where the special subject of instruction 
has little, or perhaps nothing to do with this, we must unquestionably consider 
this as a mistake, according to strict didactic rule ; and it may take place to a 
degree where it becomes a mistake which can in no way be excused. But in 
many circumstances the advantage preponderates. Througli the foreign admix- 
tures, more is gained in respect of moral tone and character than is lost in re- 
spect of instruction, where there exist in the scholars the preparations. Even 
didactically it can sometimes have a beneficial influence, by breaking the uni- 
formity of the instruction, and giving more spirit and life to it, which is a de- 
cided necessity for some individualities. 

Thirdly, there is the attention which the teacher can pay to the moral indi- 
viduality of the scholar. Also in this respect we come upon a similar diversity. 
Many teachers do not trouble themselves about this matter. They give their 
lessons, they take care that there be quiet and attention during these, and that 
the necessary preparations and work be done for them. Every thing beyond 
this, they imagine, is of no concern to them. Others, on the contrary, regard 
tlie moral effect on the scholars as the principal matter. While they give intense 
attention to the scholars in tiiis respect continually, they take the opportunity 
presented of something faulty occurring either in the regulation of the instruc- 
tion, or in conduct, to introduce, with great earnestness, representations and 
admonitions, which, in consequence of the way in which they proceed from 
them, receive a penetrating character ; and what they have once begun in this 
way, they follow out with systematic zeal. 

To these educating agents have to be added, in the fourth place, those which 
are determined by tlie relations, and especially the likes and dislikes which 
arise between teacher and scholar. Love begets love, confidence elevates and 
strengthens ; on the other hand, cold repulsive behavior on the part of the 
teacher chills the pupil, creates ill-will, and may inspire even hatred. The 
results in this case are often of great importance for the whole education ; and 
unquestionably special consideration is to be given in the selection of a teacher, 
not merely to the amount and kind of knowledge he may possess, but to the 
circumstances now named, and more especially to the many relations of agree- 
ment or of opposition which can bring the scholar to willing association; or, on 
the other hand, to an often invincible repulsion. 

We have yet to discuss the first of those points suggested in the beginning, 
— the educating power immediately and essentially attached to the instruction. 
With regard to it, we expect tliat there will be more certainty in carrying it 
out, becau.se it is conditioned by its more close connection with instruction ; and 
a full examination confirms this expectation. We can have no doubt as to its 
nature in general. The traces which remain behind from the comprehension 
of the instruction, give rise to powers for the comprehension of that which lies 
in the same direction with it, — powers of perception and observation, of 
memor}', understanding, and judgment of the most manifold kind, as well as 
the habits of attention, of diligence, and of perseverance. It is plain, at the 



58 BENEKE'S PEDAGOGICAL VIEWS. 

first glauce, that this training will be the more valuable, the greater the liveli- 
ness and intensity with which these traces are collected, provided only the mind 
do not be wearied out. 

And then to these are attached further workings out of that which has been 
already comprehended. To these belong, especially in an objective point of 
view, the regulating laws, which not unfrequently extend their operations 
beyond the special circumstances in connection with which they were first 
formed ; and subjectively, there is the elevating and bracing feeling of power 
in one's self wiiicli urges on the scliolar, and later the youth and the man, from 
one intellectual height to another, and gives him the energy requisite to the at- 
tainment of his aims. 

The truth of this remark will become exceedingly evident if we look at it, 
as it were, through a magnifying-glass, in that education which the previous 
ages give to tho.se that follow. Let us take, for instance, the influences which 
proceed from our more recent speculative philosophies. It has often been be- 
lieved, that even although these brought no advantage in respect of the matter 
which they supply to the mind, inasmuch as they establish no knowledge that 
promises to last, yet they deserve the highest praise in a formal point of view, 
or in respect of the mental, gymnastic, and intellectual exertion and strength- 
ening which they guarantee. But exactly the reverse is unquestionably the 
result ; for since these speculative systems move in distorted, often purely 
fanciful forms, the formation of the mind, or the education which is produced 
by them, must bear a distorted and perverted character. They impress on the 
mind fanciful laws of knowledge, they set up pictures of a progress in which 
there can be no real progress, but merely the fancy tliat there is progress. And 
since these pictures and laws work as misdirecting powers, the intellectual 
training must necessarily be radically corrupt. And so also the moral training. 
On the one side, they establish presumption and superciliousness in reference to 
that worthless and perverted acquisition. On the other hand, they depress and 
unnerve, where they ought to give courage and spirit, namely, in striving after 
knowledges which, established in the right way, possess sufficient tenacity to 
remain truth for all time. 

This, then, is the full extent to which instruction can and ought to act with 
an educating power, independently of special arrangements which may be 
added for the purpose. Most decided is its action in that which is immediately 
attached to it; and then in that which lies near to it, at least so far as a 
special individuality is not presupposed for it. Every thing else is in and for 
itself, not in its power, but can be drawn into it only so far as already a mental 
preparation has been made for it through the immediate action of the relations 
of life. The relation to the teacher is assuredly a relation of life, but only a 
single and limited one. On this account it can have an educating power (in an 
elementary waj') fresh and lively, but only so far as it affects the mind in this 
character. And this statement already furnishes us with the answer to the 
question, in what way schools are fitted to extend this influence. It is plain, 
without further investigation, that they are in a position to do this so far, but 
only so far as they can introduce new relations of life which shall act im- 
mediately on the inner development of the scholar. 



THE NATIONAL EDUCATION DEMANDED BY THE AGE, 

CONSIDERED IN CONNECTION WITH THE EDUCATIONAL SYSTEM OF FRIEDRICH FROBEL. 

By Prof. J. H. Von Fichte.* 



I. EDUCATION — THE PROBLEM OF THE AGE. 

Since Pestalozzi's great movement, it has become, at least in Germany, 
a universally recognized conviction, that only by means of an improved 
popular education, can the many defects of civil, social and family life 
be thoroughly corrected, and a better future be assured to our posterity. 
It may be asserted, still more universally, that the fate of a people, its 
growth and decay, depend, ultimately and mainly, on the education 
which is given to its youth. Hence follows, with the same indisputable 
certainty, the next axiom : that nation which, in all its classes, possesses 
the most thorough and varied cultivation, will, at the same time, be the 
most powerful and the happiest, among the peoples of its century ; invin- 
cible to its neighbors and envied by its contemporaries, or an example 
for them to imitate. Indeed, it can be asserted, with the exactness of a 
mathematical truth, that even the most reliable preparation for war 
can be most surely reached through the right education of physically- 
developed young men. This conviction also gains ground in Germany ; 
and renewed efforts are now made to introduce gymnastics (tiirnen) into 
the system of common school education, freed from all cumbersome 
modifications, and restored to their simple, first principles. 

But the problems of national education are far from being limited to 
these immediate, practical aims. Its workings must not alone cover the 
present and its necessities ; the great plan of national education must 
comprehend unborn generations, the future of our race, the immediate 
and therefore the most distant. Finally, man must not be educated 
for the State alone (after the manner of Greece and Rome), but the 
highest civil and educational aim must be to lead the individual and 
the whole race toward their moral perfection. National education must 
therefore extend beyond the popular and expedient ; must construct 
its foundations on pure and universal humanity, and then raise upon 
these whatever national and professional wants require. This grada- 
tion of requirements strictly held, will prove to be a guiding rule of great 
importance. 

Here now, it may seem — and " idealizing educators " have frequently 
received such reproaches — as if in these demands, far off, impossible 

* Translated by Emily Meyer, with slight verbal alterations and abridgements. • 



60 THE PROBLEM OF POPULAR EDUCATION. 

problems were treated of, as if educational Utopias were desired, instead 
of looking after what is nearest and most necessary. And one could say, 
even with an appearance of right, that inasmuch as we perform what is 
near and sure, we approach, at least progressively, our highest goal. 
For national education is a work so comprehensive, complicated and 
prodigious, that it can be realized only in favorable periods and within 
very circumscribed limits. 

Admitting this last, we hope still to show how directly practical the 
consideration of that universal question of principle is, and that the edu- 
cation of the present will only reach its aim by beginning at this point. 
We are undeniably entering a new era. We are preparing to cast aside 
the last remnants of the middle ages. Inherited rights are precarious, or 
at least they can claim no legal sanction, while, nevertheless, much in 
our manners and customs remind us of the past. No one is compelled 
to serve another, and no individual enjoys in idleness the profits of 
another man's labor ; but for each, labor and capacity are to be the sole 
supports of his position in life. Thus each is thrown upon his own 
exertions, and the path of unlimited competition and zealous effort is 
opened to all. 

For this reason there should no longer be a privileged class, but to 
each, approximately at least, must be offered every thing which belongs 
to a universal human culture, and what his particular capacities de- 
mand or are able to appropriate. Only upon these two conditions can 
the citizen of the commonwealth be fitted for the future " struggle for 
existence," to continue equal to the increased requirements, and fulfill 
ably his chosen calling. » 

This new great principle of the equal rights of all to all which their 
talents can grasp, demands a plan of education fundamentally renovated 
and readjusted. In every given case, the education must be strictly 
proportional to the conditions which the period offers. But it can not be 
denied, that in the present period this proportional relation has not been 
reached ; yes, there is even danger that it may be missed of, by a mis- 
taken arrangement of details. For this reason, those upon whom the 
responsibility of educating rests, must recognize clearly the final aim of 
the same, and prepare it with practical certaint}^, through all the neces- 
sary grades. Above all, therefore, theoretically there must be no vacil- 
lation in principles, practically no failure in the correct issues ! If we 
should succeed only in spreading a wholesome light over these two 
points, we should feel that we had solved our present problem. 

Our politicians and State educators differ widely in regard to that aim; 
and this is the next ground where the struggle should begin. Whoever 
considers a republic the highest goal to which a State can attain, laments 
that he sees no republicans around him ; these true education must 
make. But what the republican spirit, in which the people are to be 
educated, really is, there is no thorough insight. This spirit is the op- 
posite of that which has till now existed, and which sees true freedom 



PROBLEM OF POPULAR EDUCATION. 61 

only in a leveling equality, and the overthrow of old authority and social 
barriers ; and above all admits no civil compulsion in education. Each 
individual must cultivate himself for such practical purposes as he 
chooses, and as well as he can. Education and its institutions must be 
entirely untrammeled. As a fitting example we can refer to what is 
related of North America, where the educational conditions, and the 
consequent family life, are free in general. The pupil is prepared, as 
early as possible, to help himself onward, in some form of profitable 
business. The greatest activity, and the richest accumulation of prop- 
erty, is the aim of each. Though German republicanism may reject 
these principles, it must still admit that there is consistency in them, 
and that if the State has no higher aim than to become a great indus- 
trial and fiscal institution, an immense phalanstery for the most enhanced 
pleasures of this mortal life, this purpose is being realized on the other 
side of the ocean, in a highly practical way, and without unnecessary 
complications ; not, indeed, without already displaying the moral evils 
which unavoidably accompany its progress, and to which our republican 
sages persistently shut their eyes. 

Those who find their ideal state in old feudalism, in simple submission 
to the fatherly care of " princes by the grace of God," and see in a full 
return to such conditions the only safety from the dangers of the present, 
must also contemplate a reform, indeed a retrograde movement, of the 
.ducational system. They will insist upon clinging to old things, even to 
preserving what is decayed, solely because it is consecrated by author- 
ity. Nor°are we without example of this ; for we find a North German 
State, betraying a lamentable inconsistency and bhndness in settling 
the most important question of popular education, limits the range and 
thoroughness of instruction, and thus destroys the germs of its future 
growth as a State. 

These two parties— we have mentioned only their extreme character- 
istics, while numerous intermediate grades exist— designate only the 
extreme limits of the antithesis, which touches all the political and social 
questions of the age. They stand upon the broad field of the literature 
and opinions of our time, as if separated by a wide chasm, and in irre- 
concilable hostility. They could, however, by returning to their first, 
true principles, and acquiring a clearer insight, be brought to recognize 
each other ; and, instead of incessantly quarreling, be made to acknowl- 
edge their relative rights, and work harmoniously upon the common task 
of improving the education of the people. We consider it not only de- 
sirable, but possible, that the work of reconciliation should begin with a 
true appreciation of popular education, which is the common aim oi 
both sides. By this we mean that the conservatives, who will sacrifice 
nothing which is sanctified by age and authority, do not see how, in 
thus destroying, that which is truly valuable and enduring can be pre- 
served. For the new form in which it is to arise more enduringly, does 
not present itself so distinctly that they can recognize it. This^ gives 



62 THE PROBLEM OF POPULAR EDUCATION. 

them a right to protest that it is better to retain the oldest positive form 
than sink into the nothingness of a bare negation ; no new form should 
be introduced which is not at least a full compensation for the old. 

On the other side, we see reformers too frequently losing themselves 
in what is external or unessential. They do not often get beyond empty 
plans of abolition. They are clear as to what they do not want, but do 
not perceive as clearly what is permanently to fill the place of that which 
they reject. They are deeply mistaken if they think, that, in ridding 
themselves of certain hindrances, they gain creative freedom, the power 
to erect a positive structure. We can not err, in asserting that most 
revolutions have failed and become unfortunately retrogressive, because 
their leaders did not know what they wanted, or at least what they 
ought to want. 

In the first place, it is necessary to understand the past correctly, and 
to recognize clearly what in it has still a relative right to continue, and 
what must serve as a transitional basis and means for that which is new 
and necessary. The law of continuity, of gradual transition, which we 
see ruling organic life with irresistible sway, has also in all intellectual 
processes, whether political or social, its highest authorization, the vio- 
lation of which never escapes punishment. We might call it the educa- 
tional law of the world's history. 

If we may be allowed to presume that, as a general thing, the best 
thinkers agree upon these fundamental principles, then we may consider 
the following inference as admitted. It is plain, namely, that the path 
of this gradual, complete, and peaceful transition from the present into 
the new period, must take place in the field of education ; for in the 
growing race, the old and new time, the decaying past and vigorously- 
developing future, meet and are reconciled. And thus in this direction, 
the decisive truth is proved : 

All political and social controversies of the present concentrate finally 
in the question of education ; hut not only in regard to what must ie 
done in detail and immediately, but more universally still, in this: 
What is the only tru^ education, the education worthy of the human 
being ? 

This is plainly a psychological-ethical question. It can be decided — 
with the permission of our practical teachers — only on philosophical 
ground. Not — and here experience must be our guide — not that a cer- 
tain philosophical system is to construct for all time, an educational plan 
which all must follow, but that correct insight into the nature of the 
human intellect must first fix the nature and the end of all human edu- 
cation, and must at the same time designate the fundamental principles 
by which the several questions of education and instruction are to be 
decided. Thus we shall be able to dispose of the final question : Which 
one, of the now ruling educational systems, is best adapted to the nature 
of the human mind ? „ ^ . ^ ^ 

(To be continued.) 



KARL VON RAUMER. 



Karl von Raumer, whose " History of Pedagogy from the Re- 
vival of Classical Learning to our own Times,'''' is a valuable contri- 
bution to the Science and Art of Education, as well as a most re- 
liable and comprehensive record of the progress of pedagogical de- 
velopment in Europe, as affected by the practice, or publications of 
eminent teachers and educators, particularly in German)^, was born 
in Worlitz, in the duchy of Anhalt-Dessau, on the 9th of April, 
1783. Until his fourteenth year, he was under private tuition at 
home, when he was placed in the Joachimsthall Gymnasium at Ber- 
lin, to which institution his elder brother* had already been sent. 
From this Gymnasium where he had the instruction of Meierotto, he 
went in 1801, to the university at Gottingen, to study law and read 
with Buttman; to Halle in 1803, to attend the lectures of Wolf and 
Steftens; in 1805 to the Mining Academy to devote himself to 
mineralogy under Werner; and in 1808, after a geological explora- 
tion of the mountain chains of Germany and France, to Paris to 
continue his geological studies. While at Paris, he changed some- 
what his plans of life, which he thus describes in one of his pub- 
lished lectures on education. 

"At Paris my views and intentions in regard to the future occupation of my 
life underwent a great change, which was brought about by two different 
causes. For one thing, I had learnt by my own experience how little a single 
individual is able to accomplish for the science of mineralogy, even if he goes 
tx) work with the best will and the most toilsome industry ; that it required, 
much more, the united, intelligent and persevering labors of many, in order to 
pass from a mere belief in the laws of mineralogy to an actual perception of their 
operation in mountain chains. I thus became convinced that we ought not to 
work for science as individuals, but that we should, after passing through our 
own apprenticeship, instruct others and train them for the pursuit of science. 
How much more useful is it, thought I, to produce one new workman than one 

* Fredgbich von Raumer, author of History of Ilohenstaufen, Privy Counselor, and 
Professor at Berlin, was born in 1781. 

Rudolph von Raumer, author of the " Essay on Instruction in German," in the fourth 
edition of the History of Pedago^'y, and Professor of the German Language and Literature in 
Erlangen, is a son of Karl, and was born in 1815. 

The late Minister of Public Instruction in Prussia, was a cousin of Prof Karl von Raumer. 



64 RAUMER'S HISTORY OF PEDAGOGK S. 

single new work, seeing that the former can execute many works, and even 
train other workmen. This conviction caused me to turn my attention to the 
question of education. But a second cause operated in a still higher degree to 
produce the same result. The sad time that had passed since 1806 had atl'ected 
me with horror and dismay; it had made me wish to shun the society of my 
fellow-men, and had quite disposed me to give myself up to the most solitary re- 
searches among the mountains. This disposition was strengthened at Paris, in 
the midst of the haughty despisers of our German fatherland. But it was here, 
too, where hope first dawned within me, where a solitary light beamed toward 
me through the darkness of night. I read Pestalozzi, and what Fichte says, in 
his 'Addresses to the German Nation,-" about Pestalozzi and education. The 
thought, that a new and better Germany must rise from the ruins of the old one, 
that youthful blossoms must spring from the mouldering soil, took strong hold 
of me. In tins manner, there awoke within me a determination to visit Pesta- 
lozzi at Yverdun. 

Fichte's Addresses had great influence on me. Surrounded by Frenchmen, 
the brave man pointed out to his Berlin hearers in what way they might cast 
off the French yoke, and renew and strengthen their nationality. 

He promised deliverance especially through a national education of the 
Germans, which he indicated as the commencement of an entire reformation of 
the human race, by which the spirit should gain a complete ascendency over 
Me flesh. To the question, to which of the existing institutions of the actual 
world he would annex the duty of carrying out the new education, Fichte an- 
swered, ' To the course of instruction which has been invented and brought 
forward by Henry Pestalozzi, and which is now being successfully carried out 
under his direction.' 

He then give's an account of Pestalozzi, and compares him with Luther, es- 
pecially in regard to his love for the poor and destitute. His immediate object, 
says Fichte, was to help these by means of education, but he had produced 
something higher than a scheme of popular education, — he had produced a plan 
of national education which should embrace all classes of society. 

Further on he expresses himself in his peculiar manner on the subject of 
Pestalozzi's method, which he criticises. He takes exception to Pestalozzi's 
view of language, namely, ' as a means of raising mankind from dim perceptions 
to clear ideas,' and to the Book for Mothers. On the other hand, he strongly 
recommends tlie development of bodily skill and dexterity proposed by Pesta- 
lozzi, for this, among other reasons, that it would make the whole nation fit for 
military service, and thus remove the necessity for a standing army. Like Pes- 
talozzi, he attaches a high value to the skill necessary for gaining a livelihood, 
as a condition of an honorable political existence. 

He especially insists that it is the duty of the State to charge itself with edu- 
cation. He spoke in the year 1808, in the capital of Prussia, which had been 
deeply humiliated by the unhappy war of the preceding years, and in the most 
hopeless period of Germany's history. 

'Would that the state,' he said to a Prussian audience, among whom were 
several high officers of state, ' would look its present peculiar condition steadily 
in the face, and acknowledge to itself what tliat condition really is ; would that 
it could clearly perceive that there remains for it no other sphere in which it 
can act and resolve as an independent State, except the education of the rising 
generation ; that, unless it is absolutely determined to do nothing, this is now all 
it can do ; but that tlie merit of doing this would be conceded to it undiminished 
land unenvied. That we are no longer able to offer an active resistance, was 
before presupposed as obvious, and as acknowledged by every one. How then 
can we defend our continued existence, obtained by submission, against the re- 
proach of cowardice and an unworthy love of life ? In no other way than by 
resolving not to live for ourselves, and by acting up to this resolution; by 
raising up a worthy posterity, and by preserving our own existence solely in 
order that we may accomplish this object. If we had not this first object of 
life, what else were there for us to do ? Our constitutions will be made for us, 
the alliances which we are to form, and the direction in which our military re- 
sources shall be applied, will be indicated to us, a statute-book will be lent to 
us, even the administration of justice will sometimes be taken out of our iiands; 
we shall be relieved of all these cares for the next years to come. Education 



RAUMER'S HISTORY OF PEDAGOGICS. 65 

alone has not been thought of; if we are seeking for an occupation, let us seize 
this I We may expect that in this occupation we shall be left undisturbed. I 
hope, (perhaps I deceive myselfj but as I have only this hope still to hve for, I 
can not cease to hope,) that I convince some Germans, and that I shall bring 
them to see that it is education alone which ean save us from all the evils by 
wliich we are oppressed. I count especially on this, as a favorable circumstance, 
that our need will have rendered us more disposed to attentive observation and 
serious redeetion than we were in the day of our prosperity. Foreign lands 
have other consolations and other remedies ; it is not to be expected that they 
would pay any attention, or give any credit to this idea, should it ever reach 
them ; I will much rather hope that it will be a rich source of amusement to 
the readers of their journals, if they ever learn that any one promises himself so 
great tilings from education.' 

It may easily be imagined how deep an impression such words made on me, 
as I read them in Paris, the imperial seat of tyranny, at a time when I was in a 
state of profound melancholy, caused by the ignominious slavery of my poor 
beloved country. There also I was absorbed in the perusal of Pestalozzi's 
work, ' ilow Gertrude teaches her children.' The passages of deep pathos in 
the book took powerful hold of my mind, the new and great ideas excited strong 
hopes in me ; at that time I was carried away on tlie wings of those hopes over 
Pestalozzi's errors and lailures, and I had not the experience which would have 
enabled me to detect these easily, and to examine them critically. 

About the same time I read the ' Report to the Parents on the state of the 
Pestalozzian Institution;' it removed every doubt in my mind as to the possi- 
bility of seeing my boldest hopes realized. Hereupon, I immediately resolved 
to go to Yverdun, which appeared to me a green oasis, full of fresh and living 
springs, in the midst of the great desert of my native land, on which rested the 
curse of Napoleon." 

At an age when most men, of his acknowledged ability and schol- 
arship, are only thinking of securing a civil employment, which shall 
bring both riches and honor, Von Raumer hastened to Pestalozzi at 
Yverden, where he devoted the months from October 1809, to May 
1810, to a thorough study of the principles and methods of elemen- 
tary instruction, as illustrated by the great Swiss educator. 

After returning from Switzerland, he was first appointed, in 1810, 
to an office in the higher grades of the mining department ; and in 
the autumn of 1811, to the professorship of mineralogy in the Uni- 
versity of Breslau, and at the same time, to the office of Mining 
Counselor in the higher mining board there. In the latter year he 
married the daughter of Chapel-master Reichardt, with whom, in 
1861, he celebrated the anniversary of his golden \vedding. In 1819, 
he was transferred to Halle, and in 1823, taking a dismissal from 
the Prussian public service, he went to Nuremberg, where he was 
at the head of an educational institution until the year 1827. In 
that year he became professor of Natural History and Mineralogy, 
at the University of Erlangen. 

In addition to his regular duties, both at Halle, and at Erlangen, 
Prof. Raumer delivered courses of lectures on Pedagogy, which he 
afterwards published in four parts, the first of which, was issued 1843. 

** This work has grown out of a series of lectures, upon the history of education. 



gQ RAUMER'S HISTORY OF PEDAGOGICS. 

which I delivered, in 1822, at Halle, and several years later, from 1838 to 
1842, at Erlangen. 

The reader may inquire, how it was that my attention was directed to this 
subject ? If he should, it will perhaps be sufficient to say in reply, that during 
the thirty-one years of my professoftehip, I have not merely interested myself in 
Ihe science to which my time was devoted, but also in its corresponding art, and 
this the more, because much of the instruction wliich I gave was additional to 
my regular lectures, and imparted in the way of dialogue. This method stimu- 
.ated my own thoughts too, to that degree, that I was induced as early as the 
year 1819 to publish many didactical essays, and subsequently, a manual for in- 
itruction in Natural History. But were I called upon for a more particular ex- 
planation, it would be necessary for me to relate the many experiences of my 
iomewhat eventful life, both from my passive years of training and instruction, 
and from my active years of educating and instructing others. This, however, 
IS a theme, to which I can not do justice within the brief compass of a preface; 
.f hereafter an opportunity shall offer, I may treat it in another place. 

And yet after all, the book itself must bear testimony to the fitness of the 
author for his task. Of what avail is it to me, to say that I have been taught 
by Meierotto, Buttman, Frederick Augustus, Wolf, Steffens, Werner, Pestalozzi, 
and other distinguished men? When I have said all this, have I done any 
more than to show that the author of this book has had the very best oppor- 
tunity to learn what is just and true ? 

My book begins with the revival of classical learning. And Germany I 
nave had preeminently in view. Why, by way of introduction, I have given a 
orief liistory of the growth of learning in Italy from Dante to the age of Leo X., 
the reader will ascertain from the book itself He will be convinced, if not at 
the outset, yet as he reads further, that this introduction is absolutely necessary 
to a correct understanding of German didactics. 

A history of didactics must present tlie various standards .of mental culture, 
which a nation proposes to itself during its successive eras of intellectual devel- 
opment, and then the modes of instruction wliich are adopted in each era, in 
order to realize its peculiar standard in the rising generation. In distinguished 
men that standard of culture manifests itself to us in person, so to speak, and 
hence they exert a controlling influence upon didactics, though they may not 
tliemselves be teachers. ' A lofty example stirs up a spirit of emulation, and 
discloses deeper principles to guide the judgment.' 

But their action upon the intellectual culture of their countrymen has a re- 
doubled power, when at the same time they labor directly at the work of teach- 
ing, as botli Luther and Melancthon did for years. This consideration has 
induced me to select my characters for this history among distinguished teachers, 
those who were held in tlie highest respect by tlieir contemporaries, and whose 
example was a pattern for multitudes. Such an one was John Sturm at Stras- 
burg, a rector, who with steadj'- gaze pursued a definite educational aim, organ- 
izing his gymnasium with the utmost skill and discernment, and carrying out 
what he had conceived to be the true method, with the most scrupulous care. 
An accurate sketch of the educational efficiency of this pattern rector, based 
upon original authorities, in my opinion conveys far more insight and instruction 
than I could hope to afford, were I to entangle myself amid iragmentary sketches 
of numberless ordinary schools, framed upon Sturm's plan. 

Thus much in explanation of the fact that this history has taken the form 
of a series of biographies. And in view of the surprising differences among the 
characters treated of, it can not appear singular, if my sketches should be widely 
different in their form. 

There was one tiiought, which I wiU own occasioned me abundant perplexi- 
ty during my labors. If I was about to describe a man, who, I had reason to 
suppose, was more or less unknown to most of my readers, I went about the 
task with a light heart, and depicted his life and labors in their full proportions, 
communicating every thing which could, by any possibility, render his image 
clearer and more lifelike to the reader. But how different the case, when the 
educational efficiency of Luther is to be set forth. 'My readers,' I say to my- 
Belf, ' have long been acquainted with the man, and they will not thank me for 
:ho information that he was born at Eisleben, on the 10th of November, 1483; 
OS if they had .not known this from their youth up.' I am, therefore, compelled 



RAUMER'S HISTORY OF PEDAGOGICS. 67 

to omit all such particulars, and to confine myself exclusively to his educational 
efficiency. And yet this did not stand alone ; but was for tlie most part united, 
with its entire influence, both to the cliurch and the state. As with Luther, so 
also was it with Melancthon and others. Considerate readers will, hence, pardon 
me, I hope, when, in cases of this kind, they are not fully satisfied with my sketches. 

In another respect, too, I ought perhaps to solicit pardon, though I am reluct- 
ant to do so. We demand of historians an objective portraiture, especially such 
as shall reveal none of the personal sympathies or antipathies of the writer. 
Now it is proper to insist upon that truth and justice which will recognize the 
good quaUties of an enemy, and acknowledge the foults of a friend. But free 
from likes aud dishkes I neither am, nor do I desire to be, but, according to the 
dictates of my conscience and the best of ray knowledge, I will signify my ab- 
horrence of evil and my delight in good, nor will I ever put bitter for sweet or 
sweet for bitter. It may be, too, that a strict objectivity requires the historian 
never to come forward himself upon the stage, and never to express his own 
opinion in respect to the facts which he is called upon to chronicle. Herein he 
is not allowed so much freedom of action as the dramatist, who, by means either 
of the prologue and epilogue, or of the chorus between each of the acts, comea 
forward and converses with the public upon the merits of his play. Such an ob- 
jectivity, likewise, I can not boast myself of; for I record my own sentiments freely 
where I deem it necessa;-y. And surely will not the objectivity of history gain 
more by an unrestricted personal interview witli the historian, at proper intervals, 
than by compelling him to a perpetual masquerade behind the facts and the nar- 
rative ? Certainly it will, for in that case tlie reader discovers the character of 
the writer in his opinions, and knows what he himself is to expect from the nar- 
ration. He likewise observes with the more readiness, wliere the writer, though 
conscientiously aiming at truth and impartiality, nevertheless betrays symptoms 
of human infirmity and party zeal. From a church historian, for instance, who 
should express his puritanical views without reserve, no intelligent reader 
would expect an impartial estimate of the middle ages. 

Another motive also urges me to a fi-ee expression of my opinions, and that 
is, in order thereby to allure my readers to that close familiarity with many im- 
portant educational subjects which the bare recital of facts seldom creates. If, 
in this history, the ideal and the methods of such different teachers are depicted, 
these diverse views can not but have tlie effect, especially those practically en- 
gaged in training the young, to induce a comparison of tlieir own aims and pro- 
cedure therewith. Sentiments that harmonize with our own give us joy, and 
inspire us with the pleasant consciousness that our com-se is tlie right one ; 
differing or opposing opinions lead us to scrutinize our own course, even as 
were it another's; and from such scrutiny there results either perseverance 
based upon deeper conviction, or a change of course. I am happy to acknowl- 
edge, that this practical aim has been my chief motive in undertaking the 
present work, and has been uppermost in my thoughts during its prosecution. 

As far as possible, I have depended on contemporaneous sources, and in 
part from exceedingly rare works, and such, as, for aught that I know to the 
contrary, in the present age, have fallen into almost total oblivion. And, for 
this reason, I was the more influenced to render a service to tlie reader, by 
bringing widely to his view tlie men and the manners of earlier centuries, 
through the medium of contemporaneous and characteristic quotations." 

We append the Contents of the three vohimes of Raumer's great 

work, from the edition of 1847, and also the preface and contents of 

the fourth volume, which appeared in 1854. Since the publication 

of the fourth volume, a new edition of the entire work has been 

issued in four large octavo volumes, for a copy of which, we are under 

obligations to the author. In the third volume there are numerous 

additional paragraphs, and several important chapters, viz., a section 

of ten pages on "the Church and School," a chapter, (III) on 

" Schools of Science and Art," another, (IV) of nearly ninety pages 

on the " Education of Girls," and an essay on " Instruction in Ger 

man," of eighty pages, by his son, Prof. Rudolph von Raumer. 



68 RAUMER'S HISTORY OF PEDAGOGICS. 

Geschichte der Padagogik vom wiederaufbliihen klassisclier studien bis 
iinsere zeit. [History of Pedagogics, or of the Science and Art of Educaiioa, from 
the revival of classical studies down to our time.] By Karl von Raumer. 3 vols. 
Stuttgard, 2d edition, 1847. 

Volume I. 

Preface. 

1. Middle Ages. 

2. Italy, from birth of Dante to death of Petrarca and Boccaccio. 1. Dante. 

2. Boccaccio. 3 Petrarca. Review of the period. 

3. Development of classical studies in Italy, from death of Petrarca and Boccaccio 
until Leo X. I. John of Ravenna and Emanuel Chrysoloras. 2. The educators, 
Guarino and Vittorino de Feltre. 3. Collection of MSS. Cosmo de Medici. Nicho- 
las V. First printing. 4. Platonic Academy. Greek philologists. 5. Italians. Phila 
ielphus. Poggius. Laurentius. 6. Lorenzo de Medici. Ficinus. Argyropulus 
Landinus. Politianus. Picus de Mirandola. 

4. Leo X. and his time ; its lights and shadows. 

5. Retrospect of Italy. Transition to Germany. 

6. Germans and Dutch, from Gerhardus Magnus to Luther, 1340-1483. I. The 
Hieronymians. 2. John Wessel. 3. Rudolf Agricola. 4. Alexander Flegius. 5, 6. 
Rudolf von Lange and Herman von den Busch 7. Erasmus. 8. School at Schlett- 
litadt. Ludwig Dringenberg. Wimpheling. Crato. Lapidus. Platter. 9. John 
Reuchlin. 10. Retrospect. 

Reformation. Jesuits. Realism. 

From Luther to the death of Bacon, 1483-1626. I. Luther. 2. Melancthon. 3. 
Valentin Friedland. Trotzendorf. 4. MichasI Neander. 5. John Sturm. 6. Wur 
temberg. 7. Saxony. 8. Jesuits. 9. Universities. 10. Verbal Realism. 11. Fran 
cis Bacon. 12. Montaigne. 

Appendix. — I. Thomas Platter. II. Melancthon's Latin grammar. III. John Sturm. 

Volume II. 
New ideas and methods of education. Struggle, mutual influence, and gradual con- 
nectiqn and exchange between the old and the new. 

From Bacon's death to that of Pestalozzi. 1. The Renovators. 2. Wolfgang Ratich, 

3. The Thirty Years' War. 4. Comenius. 5. The Century after the Thirty Years' 
War. 6. Locke. 7. A. H. Franke. 8. Real Schools. 9. Reformatory Philologists. 
J. M. Gesner. J. A. Ernesti. 10. J. J. Rousseau. 11. Philanthropists. 12. Ha- 
maim. 13. Herder. 14. F. A. Wolf. 15. Peslalozzi. 

Appendix. — I. Wolfgang Ratich and his literature. II. Pedagogical works of Come- 
nius. 111. Interior of the Philanlhropinum. IV. Pestalozzi and his literature. V. Pes- 
talozzi's Evening Hour of a Hermit. VI. Pestalozzi on Niederer and Schmid. VII. 
Strangei.s who remained some time at Pestalozzi's institution. Vlll. Rousseau and 
Pestalozzi. 

Volume III. 

Early childhood. Schools for small children. School and home. Educational in- 
stitutions. Tutors in families. 

Instruction. 1. Religion. 2 Latin. Preface. 

I. History of Latin in Christian times. Speaking Latin. Writing Latin. 

II. Methods of reading Latin. 1. These methods changed within the last three 
centuries. 2. Adversaries of the old grammatical method. 3. New methods. A 
Learning Latin like the mother tongue. B. Latin and real instruction in connection. 
Comenius. C. Combination of A and B. D. Ratich and similar teachers, a. Ratich. 
b. Locke, c. Hamilton, d. Jacotot. e. Ruthardt. f. Meierotlo. g. Jacobs. Con- 
cluding remarks. 

Aphorisms on the teaching of history. 

Geography, 

Natural history and philosophy. Preface. 1. Difficulties. 2. Objections against 
this instruction in gymnasia answered. 3. Grades of natural knowledge. 4. Begin- 
nings. 5. Science and art. 6. Mathematical instruction and elementary instruction 
in the knowledge of nature. 7. Instruction in mineralogy. 8. Characteristics of 
scholars. 9. Instruction in botany. 10. Unavoidable inconsistency. II. " Mysteri 
ously clear," (Goeth*.) 12. Law and liberty. Concluding remarks. 

Geometry. 

Arithmetic. 

Physical training. 1. Hygiene. 2. Hardening the body to toil and want. 3 
Gymnastics. 4. Cultivation of the senses. Concluding observations. 

Appendix. — I. Ruthardt's new Ijor.i Memoriales. II. Teachers of mineralogy HL 
Use of counters in the elementary instruction in arithmetic. IV. Exp'anation of the 
common abbreviated counting with cyphers. 

The entire Contents of this work, including the fourth volume, and the addi- 
tions referred to on the preceding page, have been translated expressly for, and 
DubUshed in the ' ^American Journal of Education" 



CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE HISTORY OF PEDAGOGY. 

[Translated for this Journal, from the German of Karl von Raumer.] 



PnoF. Raumb^ introduces the third volume of his '■'■History of Ped- 
agogy " with the following remarks : — 

In this third volume, I am far from wishing to put forth a system of pedagogy. 
I have been deeply impressed by some strong expressions of the great Bacon, 
against systematizers. 

" The wonder of men at learning and at the arts," he says, " has been made to 
increase by the cunning and technical arts of those who, having studied the sci- 
ences, gave out that they were perfect in them and had brought them to comple- 
tion. For when men turn their attention to systems and subdivisions, these sys- 
tems seem to them to include every thing, and to contain within themselves all 
matter which relates to the subject. And though such system may be ill filled 
out, or as it were empty, still they impose upon the common understanding by the 
form and fashion of a perfect science. The first and oldest investigators of truth, 
however, with more faithfulness and good fortune, bestowed the knowledge which 
they had received from the observation of things, and wished to preserve for use, 
in the form of aphorisms, or short separate thoughts, not knit together in any 
method ; and thus they did not feign and pretend to set forth the whole of their 
art." 

So far Bacon. As I abide by his doctrine, and therefore do not pretend to set 
forth the whole extent of my subject, the reader will find, instead of a system of 
pedagogy, mostly descriptions of single pedagogical subjects. These, moreover, 
are not treated at all after any one plan. Sometimes the presentation is of a his- 
torical kind ; sometimes I have considered rather the present time. Sometimes 
the theoretical side is most prominent, and sometimes the practical. In this I 
was influenced by the various characters of my subjects, by my greater or less 
knowledge of them, and by the mode in which they had appeared to me in learn- 
ing and teaching ; in short, by my own experience of them. If I had undertaken 
to discuss all these subjects in one and the same way, the work would have been 
done in a colorless, monotonous manner ; and such a method would evidently 
have been very closely connected with the evolution of a system. 

The reader here receives the first division of the third part. In the second 
division will be treated instruction in the subjects omitted in the first. As a con- 
elusion of the whole work, I have thought of giving a comprehensive view of the 
present condition of pedagogy ; and am even desirous of endeavoring to portray 
truly and impartially the most eminent of living teachers. 

I *now well how difficult is this task, and how much self-denial it implies. 
Perhaps an author who has entered his sixty-fifth year is better fitted for such a 
task than younger men, who yet are " vigorous in love and hate." It is more 
easy for one near the end of his life to speak of the present as if it already lay 
far behind him, as it soon will. 

Erlangen, June 1st, 1847. Karl von Raumer. 

We shall continue our translations from this volume until we have 
completed them, by the reproduction of the whole of Prof. Raumer's 
great work in the English language. 



TO EARLY CHILDHOOD. 

INTRODUCTION. 

THE EARLIEST CHILDHOOD. 

" Speak, that I may see thee," said a Greek. 

Accordingly, the child being unable to speak, comes into the world, 
as it Avere, invisible ; and long preserves the deepest incognito. All 
the care of the parents is bestowed upon the little helpless body ; 
physical education is the main object. This was the case with the Greeks 
and Romans. The Spartans used a rude method of alleviating the 
task, by passing a sentence upon the new-born child, of life if its 
body seemed healthy, of death if not. Rousseau's doctrine was little 
better. " I could not trouble myself," he says, " about a sickly child, 
if it were to live to be eighty years old. I can not be concerned 
about any pupil who is a burden to himself and to those who have 
the care of him." 

To give all the honor to the body is a coarse and brutal estimate 
of man. Such barbarians would not have thought worth preserving 
the life of Kepler, the great German astronomer, who came into the 
world a sickly seven months' child. 

Rousseau, in his teachings as to physical education, has kept in 
view, us his ideal, a completely healthy North American savage ; a 
rule which will not serve for us domesticated Europeans. But one 
extreme introduces another; there prevailed, for great part of the 
eighteenth century, especially in France, a frivolous, unnatural meth- 
od even in the education of small children. "We have already be- 
come acquainted with these unnatural ways: the frizzle-wigged boys, 
with laced coats, and swords at their sides ; and the little frizzle-headed 
girls, with their great hoop-petticoats. By theif contests against 
these evils, Rousseau in France and his followers in Germany, as ad- 
vocates of natural principles, did great service to the cause of physi- 
cal education. The extreme views which they held, as happens at 
every reaction, disappeared with time, and the real good remained. 

To refer once more to a few points. Rousseau admonished moth 
ers of their maternal duties, in striking terms. It is not nurses, but 
they themselves, who are destined to bring up their children. If 
they would have their children love them, they must wait upon *hem 
with efficient maternal love.* He zealously combated the abominable 
custom of swaddling children, as a child so swathed up can not ex- 
ercise any of its limbs ; and recommended cool bathing, fresh air, 
simple diet, and a costume permitting the freest exercise of the body. 

However correct these views are in the main, it would not, as has 
already been said, be advisable to follow Rousseau absolutely. He is 

' Gellius had already (12, 1,) laid down the same principles ; as had Ernesti after him. 



EARLY CHILDHOOD. VI 

no physician — he even hates physicians; proceeds recklessly, and 
often blindly, after his Huron ideal ; and is determined, either by 
bending or breaking, to harden the French children* 

The little work of the able physician, Ilufeland, on the contrary, 
his " Good Advice to Mothers, on the Physical Education of their 
Children,"' is highly to be recommended. Intelligent mothers may 
safely follow his advice, particularly as to diet, where so many go 
astray. According to Hufeland, coffee and tea are altogether unneces- 
sary to children ; he prohibits the usual overwhelming of children in 
thick, soft feather-beds, and their sleeping in heated, unventilated 
rooms; recommending, instead, the utmost cleanliness, and especially 
what he calls air and water-baths. 

Children do not give information ; we do not see into the quiet and 
hidden secrets of their existence. In instruction, the most helpless 
scholar will receive the most assistance from the intelligent teacher. 
But we often have to stand in doubt and irresolution by the cradle^ 
and to recommend our child to the care of its angel in heaven. I 
have known farmers' wives, who permitted their children to play in 
the street, without any care. And if any one drew their attention to 
the danger, they would say, " My child is not three years old yet — 
the angels take care of those." Their idea, probably, was that after 
the third year, when the child is more active and intelligent, it can 
take care of itself. 

But, although the inner life of the child is a secret to us, we may 
be confident that its mind is no vacant space, but a place consecrated 
by baptism, in which are slumbering the seeds of divine gifts, which 
shall develop with advancing years. But let it not be imagined that 
the mother can do nothing for the child in the first years of its life, 
except in the mere matter of physical care. Is the heartfelt love 
•which inspires this care nothing ? Who knows whether it is not this 
love which implants the first seeds of the answering love in the child's 
heart? Shall, then, the de2:)endence of little children upon their 
mother be only animal and selfish ? Who can tell how much influ- 
ence the beautiful cradle-songs of the mother have upon the child ? 
And, above all, we believe that the intercession of the parents brings 
a blessing. 

With the acquisition of speech, begins a new course of life for the 
child ; and it comes out of its mysterious isolation. Learning to 
speak is connected with learning to walk ; f and these two compre- 

• For instance, Rousseau rejects Locke's admonition never to permit a child, when heated, 
to lie down on damp ground, or to drink cold drink. 

t First, to creep. This strengthens both arms and legs. A child who learns to creep wall 
Will, as he begins to go upright, and often falls down in trying, usually come down on liia 
hands and arms, which he has learned to use. Children who have not crept fall more awlc- 



f^2 EARLY CHILDHOOD. 

hend the first elementary instruction of a cliild. I anticipate the 
question, what reason is there why children should be born dumb, 
and require almost a year before they can speak a word ? It is be- 
cause they must needs awake gradually from their deep, nine months' 
embryonic slumber. Light awakens the eyes, sound the ears, and in 
this way the senses become active, and of themselves receive impres- 
sions from the world around. This is the beginning of living, and of 
experience. It is when the child's impressions mature into ideas that 
there arises within him the need of expressing himself; words are 
the ripe fruit of childish experience.* It is provided that the attempt 
to speak shall not be made too soon, by the original influence of the 
organ of speech. If this is overcome, there is in most cases an end 
of a judicious course of learning language. Such children misuse 
the treasure of language, which others have laid up ; and, as if orna- 
menting themselves with the feathers of others, they allow their 
thinking and speaking to be done for them. 

Learning to speak is, in part, a mental process, and partly bodily. 
The latter portion of it is concerned with the training of the origin- 
ally awkward organs of speech. Children themselves take pleasure 
in this practice, and very often say and repeat words and phrases for 
the sake of speaking. Their ears learn gradually to apprehend more 
accurately and fully the words pronounced before them, and thus they 
become able to pronounce them better.f 

The mental labor of the child in learning language consists in the 
correct comprehension and experience of the thing to be expressed 
and in the memory of the right word for it. Witliout any stiff, 
schoolmaster-like, incessant pronouncing over before him, the child 
observes for himself the names of things by repeatedly seeing the 
same things always called by the same names; cherries, for instance, 
always called cherries. In the same manner, he learns from grown 
persons words and phrases to express his inward impulses ; his wishes, 
desires, pain, pleasure, <fec.J 

The ideal to be pursued in the child's first learning to speak, is the 
same which should remain such all his life as a man ; namely, truth ; 
adequacy ; the fullest correspondence of the thing to be expressed 
with that which is expressed ; of the inner seeing, feeling, thinking^ 
with the verbal language. To such a correspondence and truth we 

wardly and dangerously. And still how hasty are parents in hurrying their chiUlren on- 
ward, and forcing them to walk without having crept ! 

*J. M. Gesner says: "The Greeks have a most valuable word, legos, with a broad 
significance. For it may mean either reason or speech. When the word has ripened within, 
then it can be spoken out. The child does not learn to speak like a parrot ; it is no organ- 
ized echo to return what is spoken to it. At least, it ought never to be taught, by the inces- 
cant chattering of nurses, &c., parrot-like habits of imitating such chattering." 

t See the chapter on the training of the senses. J See Augustin's Confessions, Lib. L, 6, 8 



EARLY CHILDHOOD. 73 

should educate the child ; it is this quality which characterizes tho 
greatest poets, orators, and philosophers. 

The mother usually gives the first elementary instruction in lan- 
guage, and may commonly be expected, proceeding in a natural man- 
ner, and with sure instinctive tact, to do what is right; while the 
subsequent instruction in language, by teachers who boast of using 
the best methods, is very often extremely fantastic, and well calculated 
to defile, or entirely to dry up, the deep and living sources of human 
language. Let him who desires to instruct mothers in this thing be 
cautious; let Pestalozzi's '■'■ Book for Mothers'''' be a warning example 
to him. Instead of intelligent mothers, eagerly, freely, and delight- 
edly teaching their beloved children to talk, as opportunity serves, we 
shall have, by means of these methodologists, stiff, wooden school- 
mistresses, giving methodical lessons in language to children one year 
old, every day at a fixed time.* 

It might almost be believed that unrhythmic language is not for 
children, but song ; which passes so magically into their hearts, and 
thence into their memories. 

Scarcely can children speak, when many parents are at once uneasy 
to have them learn all sorts of things. A confused idea of education 
prevails, like a dusky phantom, in our day ; to which many parents 
blindly submit, without examining whether his authority is legitimate. 
I shall hereafter speak more fully of this tyranny, which must bear 
the blame when parents induce or force their children to learn to read 
and write at the earliest possible moment, especially if it is too early .f 
" Good things take time," says the proverb. The child grows in 
mind as in body ; unpreoccupied and intelligent attention by the 
teacher is necessary, in order to observe whether he is ready for any 
particular subject. How few exercise this observation ! The farmer 
might put them to shame, who watches closely to see whether his 

* See " History (if Pedagogy" Vol. II., p. 411, 2(1 ed. I shall say more on this point when 
spcakins of the so-called intuitional instruction. 

tThis haste is doubly material in a time when a celebrated pedagogue ventures to praise 
liis widely-known system of instruction in reading, as follows: — "It makes the child con- 
scious of his actions, by observing how he forms one or another letter by his organs of 
speech:" — it is designed "to direct the children's attention to their actions, by this regulated 
practice." This beginning is continued by in.struction in •' logical and aesthetical reading : " 
in which the reason is every where giveu " why the reading Is to be so and not otherwise," 
which is called " reading with a distinct consciousness." This method is carried to such an 
unnatural extent, that any plain woman, who has been made to believe that she ought to 
teach her children to read in this way, and no other, had better quite give up instructing 
them at all. 

I shall speak in another place of the wretched "thinking method" of teaching language, 
which is so utterly repugnant to the youthful nature, which dries up the very marrow, de- 
stroys the feeling for poetry, and misunderstands and despises all childlike simplicity ; deify- 
ing, in its stead, a so-called " consciousness," commonly an empty form. Let us hope that 
the good natural character of the German youth, so hard to extirpate, can maintain a strong 
opposition to this unreasonable training in self-consideration and self-management, until 
their teachers' eyes shall be opened to their exceedingly unnatural theory and proceeding. 



74 INFANT SCHOOLS. 

colt is strong enougli to carry saddle and bridle. If be errs, and 
barnesses liira in too early, tbe beast is worked beyond bis strengtb; 
and I bave witb grief known more tban one boy broken down by 
similar untimely and excessive labor. Tbe farmer knows but one 
mode of bringing bis poor beast to bis strengtb again ; be looses 
bim, and turns bim into the green meadows. I know of no better 
mode of restoring a boy, so broken down, tban a similar vacation in 
tbe country. 

Tbe child therefore must not too soon proceed from hearing to 
reading, from speaking to writing. He should at first be kept within 
the region of the living voice (vox viva.) In his mother he should 
love and respect his only source of tales, songs, &c. ; she will speak 
to him in an appropriate style. Even tbe Bible must, at first, not be 
read by the child, but must be narrated to bim in a free style. Tell- 
ing and listening form a beautiful bond of affection between mother 
and child ; while, when he begins to learn to read, be often turns his 
back to his mother, sets himself down in a corner and devours books. 

While I must oppose this intellectual hothouse forcing of children, 
there is another matter which many parents, led astray by Rousseau 
and bis sect, put oH' far too long. Our pious forefathers used to teach 
their youngest children to pray, and to know edifying Bible-texts and 
hymns. A child's heart finds, in prayer, the life of its life ; and tbe 
deep impression never fades, and consecrates its whole existence, even 
until death. Yet these illuminati arose, inquiring, What can a child 
think about the names of God and Christ ? — and children's prayers 
were in many families discontinued.* Would to God that grown 
persons, with all their so-nmch-praised " consciousness," were as capa- 
ble of deep and heartfelt prayer, and of trust in their heavenly father, 
as children whom a pious mother has taught to pray ! But unless 
grown persons become like children, they can not so pray ; and men 
would destroy even this strength of feeble children ! 

I shall hereafter discuss the beginnings of various branches of 
instruction. 

INFANT SCHOOLS. 

The farmers' wives in a Silesian village, in the year 1817, at the 
suggestion of an excellent landlord, contrived an agreement that, dur- 
ing harvest-time, when they were busy in the fields, one and another 
should take turns in remaining in the village and taking care of all 
the children. The plan was certainly very praiseworthy and intelli- 
gent, and to l>e recommended in all similar cases ; e. g., when a num- 
ber of mothers are occupied in washing or fiictory labor — in short, 
wherever there is the same occasion. 

* See Rousseau and Philanthropinum, in " History of Education," Vol. II., pp. 258, 301. 



INFANT SCHOOLS. ^5 

Though there are many infant schools which did not originate 
in this necessity, still the idea is closely related to them. 

The bond of aft'ection which connects the members of a family is, 
at the present time, continually slackening. Father, mother, children, 
each have their own views, and follow their own paths. Every thing 
which aids in this unfortunate dissolution and scattering of families 
should be carefully avoided. Pestalozzi felt this deeply. To him 
the family sitting-room was so holy that he even opposed sending 
children to school at an early period, and would have the first ele- 
mentary instruction confided to the mother. It would seem as if the 
infant schools contemplated the opposite of this, and were school- 
rooms instead of home-rooms. 

Attendance at the infant school by children, whose mothers remain 
at home and are not obliged to labor elsewhere for their support, 
should ordinarily not be allowed ; certainly not encouraged. I say 
this of children under six years of age — of those not arrived at school 
age, and whose mothers would therefore not be expected to instruct 
them, but only to give them maternal care and protection. To whom 
else, in God's name, than mothers should that duty be intrusted ; 
and who would venture to perform it, uncalled ? 

Such are my views ; and I hope that they will, in general, be ac- 
cepted. Still I must confess with pain that, at the present day, the 
exceptions to the rule increase. Our day is a day of succedanea. 
A succedaneum, accordingly, must be had for a large class of moth- 
ers ; especially for unnatural mothers. But it may be objected, where 
is the use of saying that mothers ought to be so and so, and of turn- 
ing away from what is actually practicable.? When so many moth- 
ers fulfill their maternal duties so ill that they rather injure their chil- 
dren in all ways, shall not every one, in whom there remains one 
spark of Christian sympathy, lay hold and save all that can be saved? 
Shall we not at least bring these poor children, for a few hours daily, 
into a better and purer physical and intellectual atmosphere, so as to 
give them more strength to resist a corrupted atmosphere for the rest 
of the time ? Will not such a mode of proceeding perhaps aflford 
the means of acting upon the mothers themselves, and of bringing 
them into a batter way ? 

Who could oppose to such applications of the principles of love a mere 
stiff adherence to what ought to be ? Only so far would we adhere strict- 
ly to principles and rules, especially the fundamental laws of divine and 
Imman order, as to avoid the danger of becoming so estranged from them 
and accustomed to our substitutes as at last to think these aT:>solutely 
right. W^e would rather use all possible means to aid in re-establishing 
those ancient and obsolete laws, and a pious aud honorable family life. 



Y6 INFANT SCHOOLS. 

There is a second thought, which I can not avoid expressing; it 
relates to the mode in which the unhappy condition of these children 
is to be remedied. The problem is one of the most difficult of the 
art of education ; and but few men have the gifts which enable them 
to pass many hours a day with a crowd of little children in a natural, 
childlike manner, without affected childishness, and to do the right 
thing every moment, with assured tact, and without uncertain and 
uneasy meddling. 

But what are the consequences of failure in this direction ? I 
may be excused if, at the risk of going too far, I present a sketch of 
the errors which in such a case are probable, and which have some- 
times actually happened. 

Children not yet of school age are collected together in a school- 
room. If they were taken into an inclosed meadow in the woods, 
where they could play at making sand-houses, their instructor would 
have scarcely any thing to do except to keep an eye upon their live- 
ly, unwearied, and mostly innocent fancies ; indeed, he would scarcely 
have any thing at all to do. 

What a task is it, on the other hand, to preserve from weariness, 
to oversee and govern a crowd of children shut up together in a 
room 1 A mother can often scarcely get along with only four or five 
children ; and has to require the help of the older ones. 

A method has unfortunately been invented of meeting the exigency ; 
but how ? The poor children, who would otherwise have enjoyed a 
vacation up to their sixth year, and thus would have suffered no wea- 
riness, have to sit still on benches and at desks, and study. Although 
it may be said that this is only an introduction to the school, it is 
nevertheless itself a school. When a good mother at home repeats 
or sings a stanza to her children until they can say it or sing ij after 
her, this is harmless private teaching and learning. But how differ- 
ent is the proceedings in such schools where a multitude of little 
children learn, repeat, and sing by rote and simultaneously ! 

Many teachers suppose that they must drill the children in order 
to bring them forward. Invisible, quiet development is indifferent to 
them. And even if we confess that the same indifference apparently 
prevails here and there in the public which supports such schools, 
still they will see the fruits of their support of them, even if these 
are apples of Sodom — rosy outside, but within dead ashes. Woe to 
those teachers who only endeavor to make a show of these little ones, 
and in j,hem of their own skill; who aim to make them, at public 
examinations, or even before any visitors, sing, declaim, and even 
pray with theatrical and affected manner, at their age so unnatural 
and repulsive ! Thus is instilled into these lamentable little creatures 



SCHOOL AND HOME. ijy 

a poison which remains with them all their lives ; an utterly unfeeling 
and hateful vanity. Thus are produced children who take no pleasure 
in verses and stories, but only in the praises which they can obtain 
by telling them with acquired and drilled naturalness ; who are 
rolling their eyes about even while they are praying before the com- 
pany ; while the last trace is gone from them of that devotion which 
a pious child feels when his pious mother hears him repeat his eve- 
ning prayer, before he goes to sleep in his little chamber. 

It would be better than this even to have the children grow up 
In the streets and squares, in sight of the whole city. 

I ask excuse for the foregoing. It may be considered as a carica- 
ture, drawn by way of warning. Yet it is certain that its features 
■were not composed from imagination. 

It is, I repeat, a difficult task to conduct an infant school. Aside 
from the numerous external difficulties, the place requires men who, 
besides great christian humility, and heartfelt love for children, do 
what is right and true in all simplicity, hate pretense, and without 
being led astray b}' experiments and controversies will walk and act 
as quietly and unobtrusively as possible, conscientiously, and as if in 
the sight of God. 

The Lord has already sent many pious laborers, who are working 
unweariedly in the field. He will carry forward the work of his 
hands. He has pronounced heavy curses against those who offend 
children ; and will give blessings equally great to those who save 
their souls from death. The mistakes, errors, and even faults, which 
have appeared in various places, should not betray us into looking 
only at the dark side of these institutions ; although we would not 
shut our eyes to their faults ; since we desire that they should be 
recognized and cured, and that this imjtortant work may from day to 
day become purer and more pleasing to God. 

SCHOOL AND HOME. 

The child attains the school age in his sixth or seventh year ; at 
which time new relations arise, namely, those between the child and 
the parent on one side, and the teacher on the other. Hitherto his 
parents' house has been the central point of the child's existence ; now 
it is the school. Education is the object at home, and instruction at 
school. 

In simple communities, the father can be the teacher of his boys; 
especially when the latter are brought up in and for the father's call- 
ing. But if the son does not follow that calling, or if the extent of 
the matters to be learned is larger, or if those matters have little or 
nothing in common with the occupation of the father, the teacher 



^8 ALUMNEA.-PRIVATE INSTITUTIONS. 

becomes a necessity. Thus there comes to exist a special class of 
teachers, as by the progress of division of labor the various other 
professions and occupations have been originated. 

Of the teacher is required a definite amount of knowledge and 
skill, a thorough acquaintance with certain sciences and arts, and par- 
ticularly a mastery of the art of teaching — the art of awakening in 
the young the love of these arts and sciences, and of communicating 
them to them. 

The relations between the parents and the teacher are most im- 
portant ; as a constant co-operation is necessary. The father should 
ask the teacher, How does my son go on at school ? and the teacher 
again should ask the father, How does he conduct at home ? Thus 
will be established the most healthy species of influence ; which will 
bring the boys, particularly the insubordinate ones and the real good- 
for-nothings, between two fires. 

Parents and teachers must treat each other with respect, especially 
before the children. In no case should either of them speak criticis- 
ingly, contemptuously, or inimically of the other, before them. 
Great errors are committed in this particular by injudicious parents, 
who treat the teacher like a hired servant, who is bound to govern 
himself by their views — usually narrow — and prejudices. They find 
fault in the presence of the children with the instruction or the strict 
discipline of the teacher, and even say that the tuition-fee is altogether 
too large. Will the children obey, respect, and love persons of whom, 
and even to whom, such things are said ? 

My own parents impressed upon their children unconditional love 
and respect for their teacher. But my father once violated his own 
rule in an instance apparently quite unimportant. He found fault 
in my presence with the mode in which my teacher made pens. 
This trifling blame made me for the first time entertain doubts of my 
teacher's perfection. 

ALUMNEA. PRIVATE INSTITUTIONS. 

Elementary instruction is provided for, in every village of moderate 
size, by a common school. Small towns have also schools in which 
the rudiments of Latin are taught ; but only the large towns have 
gymnasia, which afford a complete preparation for the university. It 
is therefore only in the large towns that the relation which we have 
sketched between school and house can continue while the boys are 
receiving the higher grade of school instruction. Many fathers of 
families, as for instance landed proprietors and clergymen, live in the 
country, or at small villages ; how are such to secure for their chil- 
dren, if destined to a course of learned study, the higher gymnasium 
'instruction ? To secure it, I say, because cases are so unusual where 



ALUMNEA.-PRIVATE INSTITUTIONS. *JQ 

such a father himself affords the whole course of school instruction, 
from the elementary up to entrance into the university, as scarcely to 
need notice. Where they do not do this, however, they must either 
send away their son to the place where the gymnasium is established, 
or must place him at a private establishment, or must employ a tutor 
at home. 

In the former of these cases, it has always been a great evil that 
the father usually finds it difficult to obtain a good place of abode for 
his son, and to find a man who will receive him into his family as if 
one of his own children, and exercise a like conscientious care over 
his education. It is besides also beyond the parents' means to pay 
the expenses of their children's board. 

To obviate this difficulty, there have been established, at many 
gymnasia, Alumnea, in which children from other places live together 
under supervision ; and the establishment of the Saxon and Wirtem- 
berg cloister-schools was for the same purpose. The mode of life in 
these Alumnea was very difi'erent from the pievious life of the boys 
at home ; indeed, there was no distinct aim to supply the place of 
family life. There was wanting, above all, a housewife — a house- 
mother. The liberty of the Alumnists was much circumscribed of 
necessity, on account of their number. In the Ahimneum of the 
Joachimsthal Gymnasium, at Berlin, where the author was an Alum- 
nus from 1*798 to 1801, no pupil might leave the house for more 
than a quarter of an hour without a written permission, signed by the 
inspector, which he presented to the door-keej)er. We were awakened 
at a fixed time, and the lights were to be extinguished at a fixed 
time. Every thing had the character of the discipline of a strict 
father ; a character no longer in agreement with our freedom-loving 
age. I do not wish to be understood that there was no opposition 
among the Alumnists to this strictness, nor that there were not mani- 
fold evasions of the legal regulations. 

The instruction, like the discipline, was mostly on the ancient plan. 
If any thing new was introduced at any time, with cautious selection, 
it was done as quietly as possible, so that we scholars scarcely ob- 
served it ; there w^as not the remotest, slightest approach to innova- 
tion or charlatanry. 

The private institutions for education were precisely the opposite 
of the x\lumnea. They have mostly risen up in Germany and Switz- 
erland, within the last seventy years, since the establishment of the 
Dessau Pbilantliropinum. This institution sought new objects, oppo- 
site in nature to the old, and thus came in conflict with the schools 
already existing, which adhered to the old plan. After this time, 
any one who desired to promote the new system wa.s obliged to seek 



gQ ALUMNEA.-PRIVATB INSTITUTIONS. 

tx> do it either at his own risk, by establishing a private institution, 
or by joining himself to one already existing under it ; and parents 
of the same views placed their children at such an institute, and sup- 
ported it by their payments for tuition. 

It is not to be denied that the old-fashioned schools were conserva- 
tive in excess, and even to obstinacy ; and that they often rejected 
any thing new, even when it was good. Many private institutions 
made a beneficial opposition to this excessive tenacity. They experi- 
mented with devotion to the cause of progress, and the results were 
of service to the old-fashioned schools, which imitated their success 
and avoided their failures. Many private institutions might be 
named, which in this manner exercised a most healthful influence. 
Others of them are enterprises which are entitled to gratitude, be- 
cause they took the place of public schools which had disappeared, 
and disappeared as soon as they resumed their places. Many of them 
were called cities of refuge for orphan children, and others whose 
own faults or other means had brought into a necessitous condition. 
Such is the bright side of the private institutions ; let us now look at 
their dark side. 

If the old-fashioned schools were too conservative, the private in- 
stitutions showed themselves to be, on the other hand, too progressive ; 
inclined to innovation. This was clearly exemplified in the case of the 
Philanthropinum ; which despised the wisdom of previous centuries, 
and proposed to fashion all things anew. They pulled up wheat and 
tares together. This fault, it is true, many modest and judicious 
principals endeavored to shun. But such teachers, by trying to sat- 
isfy the excessive requirements both of the old and new periods, only 
overworked themselves and their pupils, in their endeavor to accom- 
plish impossibilities, without being thanked for it. It is evident how 
much such experimenting must have injured the pupils intrusted to 
them. 

The private institutions were designed to identify the school and 
the house. The school assimilated itself to the family life, and 
brought the latter under its roof; the principal, who received the 
boarders into his family, representing both the teacher and the father 
of the family. Thus wielding the double scepter of school and home, 
it was thought that he could not fail, as every thing was under his 
hand, to conduct every thing without any divisions, and in unity of 
spirit. 

But this was an error. He represented the father of a family, but 
was not it ; and, in like manner, he only represented the rector of the 
school, without really being such. 

It is easy to explain why he was not actually the father of such a 



ALUMNEA.- PRIVATE INSTITUTIONS. 81 

family. The very number of the children rendered a domestic and 
affectionate family life impossible, even though the director should 
have the services of the most conscientious, industrious, and kind- 
hearted of housekeepers. Nor can the director, even with the utmost 
good will, embrace each child separately in his affections ; he must 
manage them as a body, and what father manages his children as a 
body? 

And though he were able to embrace them all in his heart, still 
that is not the heart of a father ; even granting him the utmost good 
will, it is only a substitute for the love which God plants in the 
heart of a father. And the children, collected from the most various 
families, are doubly destitute of childish love for the director. They 
feel themselves as it were in exile — banished from their parents' 
houses ; and they compare their present life with their previous life 
at home, finding nothing right, and every thing hateful and oppress- 
ive. And even if they become gradually accustomed, their liking 
remains but lukewarm, and it is only seldom that they acquire a 
real love for the new state of things, and then their previous condi- 
tion must have been quite bad. 

Private schools, moreover, are frequently under the necessity of 
receiving pupils who do well nowhere ; or who are excluded from 
other schools for deficiency in intellect. And, although parents and 
guardians ought to describe the children they bring just as they are — 
as worthless or ignorant if they are so — yet the contrary practice 
prevails, and they are silent about their faults and conceal them, 
especially their secret ones ; and, after all, they charge the institu- 
tion with all the ignorance and badness of their children. It is 
well-advised, therefore, that pupils, at enteiing, should be exam- 
ined in the presence of their parents, that the results should be 
set down in a protocol, and the protocol signed by the parent or 
guardian. 

It is a common delusion that the director of a private school is 
free ; having no authorities to limit him and prescribe laws to him. 
Instead of school authorities, who may honorably be obeyed, there 
are many parents and guardians who take upon themselves to pre- 
scribe, in all possible matters, to the director what and how he shall 
teach, how his table shall be managed, &c. Woe to him, if he 
promises to comply with every thing ; if he lacks the necessary 
judgment and firmness to meet all these requirements in a proper 
manner. 

These assumptions have usually a very vulgar origin ; namely, the 
idea that the instructor depends upon their favor, as if they were his 
official superiors. If he does not obey them, they threaten, to take away 



82 ALUMNE A -PRIVATE INSTITUTIONS, 

their children* And they tell them, even in the teacher's presence, 
to be very industrious, because they cost so much money. Such 
admonitions naturally make the children think that the teacher is 
supported by them, and can not exist without them. Is that the po- 
sition of a father of a family ? 

Want of a capital to begin upon, and dependence upon payments 
for board, has a bad influence upon private teachers. One who de- 
sires a permanent situation prefers a place in a public school to one 
in a private institution. The latter affords no certain support, and he 
can not think of marrying in reliance upon it. And even if his in- 
come is sufficient on one day, what assures him, with his sliding-scale 
of boarders, that it will be sufficient to-morrow ? The consequence 
is, that in the private institutions we usually find only young 
teachers, who have just come from the university. These make ex- 
periment of their gift for teaching upon the pupils. As soon as they 
ascertain that their ability is good, they begin to desire some position 
elsewhere, which will assure them a certain income. In this only the 
more incapable teachers are usually disappointed, and thus they 
remain for years burdens upon the schools ; while the abler ones find 
situations. Thus there is almost never established, in a private insti- 
tution, a corps of teachers with the skill of years of practice and 
experience. But it is not only the desire of a sure maintenance which 
drives oft* the teachers ; there is a second reason — the almost intoler- 
able burden of labor. The gymnasium teacher has the time of his 
evenings to himself, as soon as the regular school-hours are over ; but 
not so with the teachers in a private school. He must continue his 
supervision of the boys at table, at play, and even through the night, 
if he sleeps with them. He has no time to breathe ; and one can 
scarcely endure such a burden, unless he has a not overscrupulous 
conscience. The principal is worst tormented of ail. Besides instruc- 
tion and supervision, he has many other duties: correspondence with 
the parents, the housekeeping management, the general care of 
the whole institution, &c. And these burdens are doubly oppressive 
because he is not governing in the strength of an official appointment. 
And such a man, beset day and night, is expected at the same time 
to be a cheerful, friendly, loving father to a multitude of strangers' 
children, and to maintain the tone and atmosphere of a pleasant 
family life ! 

He is even expected to do more than this. He is expected to be 
rector, and to maintain discipline among the mass of children. Thus 
he has two inconsistent occupations, and this inconsistency — that of 

" An honorable and conscientious teacher mupt meet these vulgar assumptions with the 
most distinct sint ut sunt aut.non sm/— things musit be as they are, or not at all— at the risk 
of having his school entirely deserted. 



TUTORS. 83 

family life and school discipline — runs through the whole institution. 
If the former is the prevailing element, the strict discipline and order, 
which are so healthful and beneficial to the child, suffer ; and if the 
latter, there is from morning to night a stiff regulation-movement to 
play, meals, sleep ; every thing has the impress of the rules upon it. 
This is intolerable to intelligent and active boys ; and they try to get 
free air for themselves by constant opposition to the incessant pressure 
of the stupifying legal code. And this very opposition often causes 
the teacher to still greater strictness. 

Thus there is a vacillation between a corporeal despotism, which 
would assimilate the school to a barrack, and a so-called family life, 
which would resolve itself into lawless anarchy. 

Having thus displayed the dark side of the private schools, I glad- 
ly turn once more to the other. 

It should first be observed that it would be very unjust to charge 
that all parents and guardians of pupils at such schools are such as 
have been described. At all the institutions which have been known 
by me, there have always been fathers, mothers, and guardians, who 
have been sincerely thankful for every thing which has been for the 
good of their children. And there were also many among the 
children, who felt and recognized the honest and disinterested exer- 
tions of the teacher for them. And even those to whom their life at 
the institution was not pleasant, often in after years sincerely thanked 
the teachers for what they had done for them. 

Intelligent parents and good children influence the others, and 
strengthen the teacher in his difficult calling. Such parents are far 
from entertaining that foolish notion that the teacher, in return for 
their tuition-fee, is their servant, and must fall in with their wishes in 
every thing. 

If the teachers of a private school are respectable men, free from 
interested motives, kind and conscientious, and if the parents of the 
children are liberal-minded, and place full confidence in such teachers, 
many of the evils which we have described will disappear. The 
pupils, after the example of their parents, will confide in the teachers, 
and good feeling will prevail in the school. 

TUTORS. 

Parents who love their children sincerely find it very hard, at so 
early an age, and under such circumstances as have been described, 
to send their children away from them, and to intrust them to an 
Alumneum or a private institution. They have remaining, in such a 
case, the alternative of employing a private tutor, who shall educate 
their children jointly with them, and who shall have entire charge 
of the department of instruction, and thus supply the place of the 



84 TUTORS. 

school. This is the business of the tutor in the country ; in the city, 
however, he will usually have charge only of the supervision and ed- 
ucation of the boys, who will attend sonae school, receiving additional 
private lessons. 

To consider more in detail the task of the tutor. And, firstly, as 
to instruction : the duties of the city tutor are in this respect much 
the lightest ; as he will have only to supervise the boys during their 
studies at home, and to assist them wherever necessary. In this po- 
sition it is difficult always to observe a proper medium, so as to avoid — 
if a somewhat colloquial form of expression may be admitted — mak- 
ing a personified asses' bridge of one's self. If the study of self- 
taught persons is often an oppressively severe task, that of the scholar, 
who is always assisted, is too easy. By always depending uj)0n ex- 
ternal aid, he loses the right control of his faculties, which alone will 
bring him to a proper independence. 

The country tutor must instruct in all studies ; he must be a whole 
school in himself. He must understand and be able to practice what- 
ever he is to teach ; and he must do still more. Even a master of 
anj' subject does not thereby become a master in teaching it ; many 
virtuosos might be named, who could not teach their science or art. 

It may be said that, as the art of swimming must be learned by 
swimming, so the art of teaching must be taught by teaching. This 
is very true ; but still, each of these arts has rules and modes of op- 
erating, a knowledge of which can be acquired before proceeding to 
the practice of them, although the right understanding and practical 
knowledge of them is only to be acquired by actual practice. 

Candidates in theology and philology are usually tutors. They 
iiave seldom, while at the university, made any special preparation 
for the place, and do not know what its difficulties are. They 
frequently imagine that, because they can read and reckon, they can 
ieach both of those studies; and even delude themselves as to the 
clearness and certainty of their knowledge and ability in them. Ex- 
perience is necessary before one can know how teaching brings the 
teacher to the right estimation of his knowledge ; that is, how it cures 
him of an overestimate of it, and humbles him. 

Most of what is to be taught, it will be necessary not merely to be 
practically master of, nor scientifically to understand, but both. The 
teacher must conjoin clear theoretical knowledge and practical skill. 
An apparently ready arithmetician undertook, rashly, to teach the 
rudiments of arithmetic. He soon found out, for the first time, that 
he was destitute of any true knowledge of the essentials of the four 
ground rules, especially of division ; and thus convinced himself that 
he could not teach properly without that knowledge. 



TUTORS. 85 

If the tutor is likely to make such a discovery as this on subjects 
which he has diligently studied at school and university, the case will 
be still worse when he undertakes to instruct on subjects which he has 
studied and practiced only superficially, or not at all. Such are draw- 
ing, singing, piano-playing, gymnastics, geography, and natural his- 
tory ; departments of especial importance for a teacher in the country.* 

Any person, therefore, who is proposing to become a tutor, should 
use the opportunities aflforded him at the university to ground him- 
self more thoroughly, and increase his readiness in the studies which 
he pursued at school, and to learn also much more. And even if the 
theological student has no design of becoming a tutor, he should have 
a reason for such a course of study, aside from the noble motive of 
self-cultivation. If he afterward becomes a pastor, he will commonly 
have the supervision of a country or city school. In this event he 
must become acquainted with the subjects and the method of school 
instruction ; in order to which, he needs to prepare himself almost in 
the same manner as for a place as tutor. The fact that this has al- 
ways been neglected by the great majority of theological students 
has done much to promote the unhappy division between church and 
school. Teachers feel it to be unjust that they are under the super- 
vision of clergymen who have made themselves acquainted neither 
with the theory nor the practice of teaching, while they themselves 
have labored assiduously for years in preparing themselves for their 
vocation. I am aware that many teachers protest against subordina- 
tion to the clergy from quite other and improper motives ; but they 
are right in demanding of the school-inspector an acquaintance with 
the subjects and methods of school instruction. 

But to return to the subject of the tutor. In the country, he must 
teach, singly, what all the teachers of a school teach together. To 
make up for this great field of subjects of instruction, he has been 
encouraged by the consideration that, to compensate for it, he has 
fewer children, perhaps but one or two, to instruct. But this is a poor 
comfort. It is true that to instruct a class of seventy or a hundred 
scholars is a task to which no one ever felt himself competent who 
was seriously desirous of teaching, in the true sense of the word. 
But an opposite extreme brings with it an opposite disadvantage to 
the teacher. This is, that nothing could be more irksome than to sit 
six or eight hours daily opposite two pupils, and to instruct them 
without cessation. The case is the same as in gymnastics. What 
would the teacher of gymnastics do if his class at leaping, for 
instance, consisted of only one or two? He can not keep these two 

*The study of French is especially to be recommended to those who would oppose the ex- 
cessive valuation of this language ; so that it need not be said that they can not judge of it, 
because tbey do not understand it. 



86 TUTORS. 

jumping incessantly ; they would very soon be exhausted. But, if 
he has a class of fifteen, each, after his exercise, rests and looks on at 
fourteen others before his own turn comes again. 

The case is generally similar in mental training. Suppose a class 
of fifteen are studying the -^neid. The scholar who is reciting has 
to make a much greater mental effort than the rest ; but, when he 
is through, he only listens while the other fourteen recite, until his 
turn comes round again. And it is precisely this alternation of the 
productive and receptive mental activity, in speaking and hearing, 
which is most profitable to the pupil. 

It is, therefore, to be recommended to the tutor that, wherever 
practicable, he should, when the case requires it, have a few pupils 
joined with his own, who will certainly gain by it. No parents could 
object to this plan, except such as consider that, if the tutor should 
instruct their boy only, his whole powers would act on them ; but, if 
he should teach four others, only one-fifth of them. 

It is also said that the tutor has an easy time, as long as the chil- 
dren are quite young — having to give them only elementary instruc- 
tion. This again is poor consolation ; for this is the most difiicult in- 
struction to give. It is certainly more difiicult to communicate the 
right rudiments, in the right way, of arithmetic, Latin, &c., than to 
study algebra and read Cicero Be Officiis with a boy of fifteen, al- 
ready practiced in them. 

Having thus considered the task of the tutor in respect to instruc- 
tion, let us look at his duties in disciplining. 

In instruction he is usually unrestricted, and regulates it as he 
chooses ; but he must administer discipline in conjunction with the 
parents. And the discipline will be successful only when they labor in 
harmony with him. If this harmony is wanting, the blame is some- 
times due to the tutor, sometimes to the parents, sometimes to both. 

Until the first employment of a tutor, the parents are usually the 
only educators of their children. It often happens that the tutor, at 
first entering upon his office, lays claim to sole authority. This is as 
much as to tell the parents to their face. You do not understand this 
aftair ; let me transact it alone — and this too from a person who has 
usually not even made an experiment in education. Before he makes 
such a demand he should have made proof of his capacity by his 
effect upon the children ; and, if he has done this, he will usually not 
need to make any demand — the authority will fall to him of itself. 

This misunderstanding with tutors just beginning their work is es- 
pecially probable when the tutor is a Christian, and the parents 
decidedly worldly. In a situation so full of temptations and troubles 
as this, it is o_\traordinarily difficult to do wed by the children in every 



TUTORS. 87 

case, or to carry througli, with firmness and mildness, any measure 
requiring uncommon wisdom. The tutor, in such cases, must be 
careful not to set up a rigid system, grounded not on God's Word but 
on his own determination, nor the wearisome, painful, and presumpt- 
uous formalities of a false pietism ; for the gospel will win no hearts 
by such measures. A seriousness based on strong faith, which is by 
no means inconsistent with unconstrained cheerfulness, is not at all re- 
pulsive ; but the case is very different with that ill-humored frame of mind 
which is always uneasy, out of temper, and displeased with every thing, 
and which even by its silence passes sentence of condemnation. 

This is one error with which a Christian tutor in a worldly family 
may fall ; the other is gradually to become worldly himself. Espe- 
cially should he beware of becoming so accustomed to the high style 
of life in a family of high position that it is a necessity to him, and 
that afterward he will be utterly miserable in a little village parson- 
age, always longing for the flesh-pots of Egypt, and for what is called 
cultivated society. He should, therefore, while employed as tutor, find 
time to attend upon the sick and the poor, and especially on poor 
children ; in order not to become entirely estranged from the occupa- 
tions of his future life. If, at the conclusion of his engagement as 
tutor, his employer should offer to present him the place of clergy- 
man of his village, he should be careful lest he play the part of a 
mere chaplain and guest of his patron, and neglect the congregation 
intrusted to his charge. 

A Protestant tutor can not easily exert a profound religious influ- 
ence upon Catholic children. He can not accommodate himself to 
Catholicism; and, if he does not do this, but gives Protestant relig- 
ious instruction without regard to consequences, this is in feet nothing 
but a proselytism which is inconsistent with honesty. The same is 
true of a Cathohc tutor in a Protestant family. 

Thus much of the duties of a tutor: I shall pass rapidly over those 
of the parents. I discuss the points under this head in my chapters 
on early childhood, religious instruction, relations of parents to public 
and private teachers, and of training generally. To the remarks 
offered in those places I will add a few words on the relations of the 
parents to the tutor. 

They must, firstly, be cautious in selecting ; but, having selected, 
according to the best of their conscience and knowledge, they must 
then put confidence in the employed, and not cramp and discourage 
him by captious misunderstandings. In general, the tutor will com- 
mand more and more confidence as he approves himself; and it is a 
matter of course that he has one or another fault or weak side. But 
if his fault is not one that entirely unfits him for his oflice, it must be 



38 TUTORS. 

borne with patiently ; and the patience of the tutor will, in like man- 
ner, be exercised by the parents. Those parents fare worst who 
require a perfect tutor ; and who try one candidate after another, dis- 
missing them for slight reasons. Such a constant change has a most 
unfavorable effect on the children. 

Parents who employ tutors belong commonly to the educated 
classes. It ought, therefore, to be a thing of course that they respect 
the men to whom they intrust the children whom they love, and that 
they show this respect every where, especially before his pupils. But, 
unhappily, this is not always the case. Who does not know how 
often it is the case that the pride of wealth or birth looks down as if 
from a higher sphere upon the tutor, and considers and treats him 
little better than a servant? And the children are expected to re- 
spect a person thus treated ! and a man is to educate them to whom, 
after the example of their parents, they consider themselves far supe- 
rior, both in wealth and birth ! 

Feasting, balls, theaters, and play are the usual diversions of the 
higher classes. If an intelligent tutor remonstrates plainly against 
the participation of the children in such dissipations, the parents 
ought to listen to him, and not to require that both the children and 
he himself should take part in them. 

Thus we have discussed the various difficulties which may arise be- 
tween the tutor and the parents of his pupils — difficulties, unhappily, 
only too common. We may now, with propriety, inquire after the 
ideal of such a relation undisturbed by them. Such a one will exist 
where the tutor is a decidedly Christian man, cultivated, fond of chil- 
dren, and master of the art of teaching. 

" Well is that house where Jesus Christ 

Alone the all in all is thought ; 
And where, if He should absent be, 

All earthly good would be as naught ! 

" Well, when the husband, wife, and child 

In faith and truth are joined as one ; 
When all accord in earnest zeal 

That God's commands shall all be done. 

" Well, when before the observant world 

They set a good example forth ; 
And show that where the heart is wrong, 

All outward works are nothing worth." 

Such a house is built upon a rock ; peace dwells within it, and the 
blessing of God rests upon the children, who are trained up in unison 
by parents and tutor, in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. 
And thus also are the right foundations laid of all higher training in 
science and art. 



RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 

[Translated from Raumer's "History of Pedagogy," for the American Journal of Education.] 



The sacred charge of the seeds of the new birth rests upon the 
parents. The mother must pray* for the child, and teach it as 
early as possible to pray, in order that prayer may become a second 
nature. It has already been observed that a man seldom prays with 
as full confidence in being heard as a pious child in his undoubting 
simplicity. Our old morning and evening-hymns contain stanzas 
which are entirely proper to be used by children as prayers.f He 
may add to such stanzas his own prayers and requests ; and no sur- 
prise should be shown if these should contain some strange and even 
comical matters; for what seems comical to us grown persons is sa- 
cred seriousness to the child. The mother must also first make the 
child acquainted with the Bible. A good old-fashioned picture-bible 
serves to demonstrate its stories. I say an old one, for few of the 
modern ones are of any value. That of Kiigelgen, which is much 
the best of these, extends, 1 believe, no further than Genesis; and, if 
completed, would be too expensive for most families. The Hildburg- 
hausen Picture-Bible, again, begins with a quite unsuitable picture of 
Paradise. To paint the paradise of innocence requires a chaste and 
innocent mind. 

Among the old picture-bibles, that of Christoph Weigel, of which 
repeated editions have appeared, is to be recommended. J This is not 
because they possess any remarkable artistic merit, and their execu- 
tion is mostly of very moderate excellence ; but, nothw ithstauding 
these technical faults, the designer had a vivid fancy, and therefore 
made pictures which stimulate the fancy of children. 

Older brothers and sisters will readily show the pictures to their 

• Augustin says of his excellent mother, Monica, " Thy maid-servant, who bore me beneath 
her heart to bring me inio this life, but within her heart to bring me into everlasting life." 
Conf.9, 8; 9, 9. 

1 See " Spiritual Songs," (Geist/icke Lieder.) 2d ed. Stuttgart, S. G. Liesching. 845. 
For morning-prayers for children, see iNos. 154, 155, and 157—160. For evening-prayers, 
Nos. 162—168. 

I I possess two editions One, without date, has the title " Sacra ScriptuTa loquens in Im- 
aginibus. . . . By Christoph Weigel. artist in NurembfTg." Wilh te.\t. The other, 
without text, is called '' Biblia Ectypa. Pictures from the Holy Scriptures nf the Old and 
Netc Testaments, by Christoph Weigel, copperplate engraver in Augsburg, 1695." 

This I wrote four years since. Since that time Coda has announced a picture-bible, to 
which Schnorr is (o contribute. I saw, as early as 1836, his remarkably-excellent illustra. 
tions of the Old Testament, of the history of creation, &c. The illustration of Joshua 5, 
13—15 impressed me deeply. 



90 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 

juniors, and describe the contents to them. In this way both one and 
the other soon become firmly grounded in the Bible ; a matter of im- 
portance both to boys and girls. It has already been said that the 
mother should not read the stories, word for word, out of the Bible, to 
very young children, but should tell them in her own way ; for the style 
of the Bible is too unaccustomed to these, who need milk for food. 

But if the child has learned to read, and is able to become acquaint- 
ed with the Holy Scriptures by reading, he should be taken at once 
to the original sources, not referred to the so-called biblical stories. 
It is now time so to accustom the children to the sacred style of the 
Bible, which knows nothing of rhetorical ornament, that they will 
early acquire a taste for its divine originality, and for its great differ- 
ence in character of style from all the works of human rhetoric. 

Shall children read the whole Bible ? At first, certainly not. But 
what shall be omitted ? What can be left out without injuring the 
connection, and making it obscure ? The best course on this point is 
to use books whose authors have felt the utmost piety toward the 
Bible, and who have made extracts from it, word for word, as far as 
possible, for the use of beginners. Zahn's " Biblical History " is par- 
ticularly to be recommended.* 

Care should be had not to regard as unsuitable for children such 
books of the Bible as they may happen especially to like, and in 
their simple way to understand better than many grown persons. 
Among the prophets, for instance, they are especially fond of Daniel, 
his visions, the stories of the three men in the fiery furnace, and of 
the den of lions. It should not be said that the children do not un- 
derstand the Bible. The child has one understanding, and the man 
another; just as the artist has one very different from that of the 
learned commentator. And still Palestrina and Handel understood 
the 53d chapter of Isaiah better than Gesenius. 

It is an old question, what is to be done respecting those accounts 
in which the relations of the sexes are handled without fig-leaves. 
Except the Mosaic law, which ought not to be read at all,f there are 
very few accounts which should be omitted.J And if in any ordinary 
reading it is thought best to omit any part, it should be done in such 
a manner as not to make the children doubly attentive to the omitted 
part, and then go and read it for themselves. It is by the emascu- 
lated editions of Horace that boys learn most easily to find the ob- 
scene odes, &c., in complete copies. 

• " Biblical History, by F. L. Zahn. With a preface by Tholuck. Dresden. 1831." (Bi6 
lische Geschichtc von P. L. Zakn.) 

t With few exceptions ; as, for instance, Levit., xix., 1 — 18. 

t Perhaps Gen., xix., 30— 38; xxxiv., xxxviii. ; 2 Sam., xiii. ; Lot's Daughters ; Dinah; Ju 
dah ; Tamar and Amnon. 



RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. Ql 

Above all, it should be remembered that it is not so much the 
subject of an account which is corrupting in itself, as it is the im- 
pure mind of the narrator which corrupts and poisons the reader. 
Even in these brief biblical narratives, which are impure in themselves, 
there appears plainly the austere, divine, and strict purity of the per- 
fectly Holy Scriptures. Are we to consider it mere chance that the 
story of Judah's incest is immediately followed by that of Joseph's 
God-fearing chastity ? David's adultery brought the curse upon his 
house, and brought after it the incest of Amnon and Absalom. The 
truly brutal crime of Amnon is described in a few words of fearful 
truth. (2 Sam., xiii., 15.) 

Truly, God is not a tempter to evil, but the truest monitor against 
it. Sooner or later, the Bible may with confidence be put in the 
hands of the young. But their elders, who have with humility and 
earnestness penetrated the meaning of the book — father, mother, min- 
ister, or teacher — must advise them during their reading, especially 
when they are in doubt, at any place where they are liable to be led 
astray.* 

It may also be inquired in what order the Bible must be read ; 
whether in the order in which it stands, beginning with Genesis and 
coming afterward to the New Testament ? I think not. Children 
should first become acquainted with the Gospel, and proceed thence 
to Moses and the prophets. After reading the two first chapters of 
Luke and Matthew, they may take Genesis and the other liistorical 
books, alternately with the Psalms and selections from the prophets. 
The Old Testament prepares them for the coming of Christ ; it is, 
indeed, one great prophecy of the Saviour, whether typical by per- 
sons and religious ceremonies, or in the express words of the 
prophets. No one, who has diligently read the Bible from youth, and 
with an honest mind, will be so foolish as to say that the Old Testa- 
ment is of no importance, and to boast of confining himself to the New. 

When the connection is clear, prophecy and history may be con- 
joined. In the course of repeated readings of the Bible, the proph- 
ecies and evangelists in particular should be read in connection ; as, for 
instance, Isaiah, ix., 53, with the gospels for Christmas and the 
Passion. 

Sooner or later a Christian must take a general view of the whole 
Bible, from Genesis to the Apocalypse, from the creation to the end 
of all things. God is the Alpha — such is the substance of the first 

♦Astonishing misinterpretations of the Bible prevail among the people, who even cite 
texts in defense of their sins. The distribution of the Bible can, therefore, never render the 
ministerial office superfluous. The people need profound and pious interpreters of the Holy 
Scriptures, especially in our own times, when evil-minded interpreters are seeking, by every 
means, to lead them astray. 



92 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 

chapter of the Bible. God is the Alpha and the Omega, the begin- 
ning and the end, who is and was and is to come, the Almighty — 
such is the oft-repeated lesson of the last book of the Bible, the 
Revelation of John ; and these lessons are the foundation of all our 
faith and hope. 

Thus the Bible appears as a history of the world from the begin- 
ning to the end ; from its first creation to that future renewal of it 
which is to begin with the coming of .Christ. 

With the reading of the Bible may very early be joined the learn- 
ing, by rote, of the smaller Lutheran catechism. Luther himself, in 
his preface, has given most excellent directions for using it. 

Many of the catechisms which appeared subsequently were expan- 
sions or explanations of the smaller Lutheran catechism, and collec- 
tions of applicable biblical references. Some of them are useful only 
for the teacher, as the larger Lutheran ; others, as Spener's, are in- 
tended both for the teachers and the older scholai-s. Among the re- 
formed catechisms, the Heidelberg holds the first place. A cele- 
brated man of learning said of it, "That child's book, which begins 
' What is your only consolation in life and death ? ' makes men." 

The catechism is a dogmatic system, closely interwoven with ethics, 
for children and laymen, and set forth in question and answer. It is 
not the child who answers for himself, but the word of God answers 
through the mouth of the ignorant and immature child. The an- 
swers are texts of the Bible, or are based upon them. 

Catechising is directly the opposite of the socratic procedure of the 
rationalistic ministers, who endeavor to question out of the children 
what they assume to be innate and natural religious ideas. Thus 
they try to lift them, through the chain of cause and effect, up to 
God, as the highest and ultimate cause.* Jehovah's method at 
Mount Sinai was far otherwise. He did not question the ten com- 
mandments out of the children of Israel, overcome by sacred terror, 
but thundered them into their hearts, so that the mighty impress of 
that legislation has propagated itself for three thousand years, down 
to their latest posterity. 

With reading the Bible and the catechism should be connected 
the learning of pious hymns. With the narrative of the birth of 
Christ might be learned, for example, Luther's Christmas hymns 
" From Heaven high " and "Praised be thou, O Jesus Christ ; " and with 
the history of the Passion, " O thou bloody, wounded head." Children 
learn best by singing the hymns ; the words impress themselves viv- 
idly and permanently upon the mind by the help of the melody. 

In what I say on this point I do not refer merely to singing in 

* See my " History of Education,'' II., 302. 



RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 93 

schools ; I wish, with Herder, that " the old times and the old spirit " 
might return, " in homes and churches ; " " when the old hymns were 
sung with devotion and the whole heart ; when no father began or 
ended a day otherwise than in the beautiful singing-circle of his 
family. May God bring that sincere, joyful, and praisefully-singing 
period back again." 

But now the song is silent in many pious families ; where the 
children should now rather learn their hymns from the devotional rec- 
itation of their mother than from their own reading. 

At a more recent period, war has been declared by many against 
learning by rote ; and, as the history of pedagogy shows, the memory 
has been treated as the lowest and the reason as the highest mental 
gift. "Memory -cramming" was spoken of with the utmost con- 
tempt ; and it was laid down that children should learn nothing by 
rote which they had not already intelligently understood. If this 
is correct, then they ought neither to learn the smaller Lutheran cate- 
chism nor texts from the Bible and sacred hymns. In these we 
have chiefly to do with mysteries of faith, which the understanding 
can not reach in the longest human life ; with a tree whose roots and 
whose crown reach into the unfathomable depths and bights of 
..ternity. But it is these very mysteries which are our consolation 
and our hope in life and death. 

It is a divine provision, as kind as it is wise, that we have in the 
memory an intellectual store-chamber, in which we can lay up seed- 
corn for the future. The ignorant may think this seed-corn dead ; 
but not so he who knows that at the proper time their vital energies 
wi!l suddenly germinate and grow. If a boy learns the text " Call 
upon me in time of need, and I will save thee ; so shalt thou praise 
me : '' if he knows no time of need in his youth, he will not under- 
stand the text. But if in his mature age a time of unforeseen and 
overwhelming necessity should come suddenly upon him, this text 
will come before his soul, all at once, like a helping angel of peace 
and consolation, and he will understand it, and still more than that. 
If a child learns the text "Though I depart from thee, depart thou 
not from me," he does not understand it ; the thought of death is 
far from him. But old men in the hour of death pray in the words 
of the same verse, which they learned when children ; they under- 
stand them, and more than that. 

In the seven full years Joseph laid up for the seven years of fam- 
ine. When the time of need comes it is too late to gather. 

Texts and hymns I call seed-corn. The hymns I mean are those 
inspired by the power of the divine word. These only should 
be committed to memory. The living germ has confessedly, in our 



94 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 

modern hymn-books, been cut out of these powerful old hymns. 
With such dumb, dead seed-corn as this children's memories should 
not be troubled.* 

But shall the Bible, or the hymns, be taught to the child entirely 
without explanation ? There are so many cases of misunderstandings 
of texts of the Bible, which the teacher might easily have removed by 
a few words of explanation. The answer is : Whatever is susceptible 
of explanation should be explained ; but the inexplicable mysteries 
of our faith should be read with the hand upon the mouth. 

From a confusion of the explicable and inexplicable of sight and 
faith come error and controversy. Only little minds claim unlimited 
insight, will believe nothing, insist every where on seeing and com- 
prehending, and on making every thing intelligible to the children ; 
and expend efforts on empty explanatory chattering about mysteries 
which require a serious and humble silence. "I have often suffered 
the efforts of many persons to teach me these things, but saying 
nothing," says Augustin.f 

It is however always better in reading the Holy Scriptures to ex- 
plain too little than too much ; that the divine text may not be hid- 
den or obscured by the human commentary, and that be expanded 
over much surface which is said clearly and impressivaly with ener- 
getic brevity. The seed-corn of the divine word should not be ground 
up into meal. 

Poetic power should not be weakened by prosaic exposition. To 
say, " If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost 
parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right 
band shall hold me," sounds otherwise, and makes a different impres- 
sion from an abstract and insufficient exposition of the omnipresence 
of God. 

Explanations relative to real objects are necessary, but should not 
be pushed further than is necessary ; and not to the point of scientific 
detail. Geography, chronology, and archseology should serve as aids 
to the understanding of the Holy Scriptures, but should not become 
independent and superior to it.J A map and geography of Pales- 

* It is very important that the clergyman should know by heart many old hymns; not 
merely for use in preaching, but to be able to apply them at proper times in exercising his 
care over souls, without having first to take out his hymn-book. Ministers regret extremely 
having been in youth neglected in this particular. Young theological students might learn a 
verse daily, which would be three hundred and sixty-five a year — thirty or forty hymns — a 
large treasure of them already. 

t And in another place, of (hose who seek to comprehend God : " Let them prefer to find 
thee without seeking thee out, rather than not to find thee though they seek thee out." In 
the former case they would learn selfknowledge and humility, but in the latter selfdelusion 
and pride : in the former, therefore, truth, yea, him who is truth ; in the latter, they would 
fail of it. 

} An excellent work is '-Guide to Instruction in Biblical History and in the Knowledge of 



RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION, 95 

tine would be useful in reading the book of Joshua ; but Joshua 
should not be treated as a geographical compendium. 

Practical applications should proceed naturally from the text, but 
should not be dragged in by the hair of the head, nor protracted into 
long sermons. They should rather be in the tone and manner of 
conversation. One who knows and sincerely loves his scholars will 
find that the Bible, even the historical books of it, offer much more 
occasion for practical applications than would have seemed probable. 
I was reading, for instance, the account of Eliezer's conduct when he 
went after Rebekah for his master, to girls who were, as I knew, to be- 
come servants. It was quite natural for me to exhibit Eliezer to these 
girls as an instance of a reliable servant, who with faithful conscien- 
tiousness performed his master's business, and avoided every thing 
which might obstruct it. 

We possess, at present, many Bibles with commentaries, both 
orthodox and heterodox. Whether they are the foimer or the latter 
depends not merely on their contents, but also on their form. We 
have commentaries which are correct in their teachings, but which, 
by reason of their diffuse, wearisome, and thoroughly prosaic method, 
operate as depressingly on the young as if rationalistic. To read 
them, one would believe that God's Word was only given in order to 
lay it off into the so-called exercises of the understanding (PVs/or?ic/t'S- 
ubungen.)* 

That whole modern phase of pedagogy which was adopted especially 
under the influence of Rousseau, Basedow, and even of Pestalozzi and 
his school, has, among other characteristics, that of not merely neg- 
lecting, but by evil arts of destroying, the most active faculty of 
youth, a sensitive imagination. This creative power of unreflecting 
simplicity, and the religious blessing which springs from that simplic- 
ity, are unknown to the dry pedagogues who, by means of an unin- 
telligent torture of the understanding, which anticipates the period of 
mental maturity, would screw up the child to their much-praised 
" consciousness," and to the comprehension of every thing in general 
and in particular.f ' 

If a child, whose imagination is still vigorous and lively, reads the 
Scriptures without being perverted, the forms and occurrences appear 
before his mind so that he lives among them as if he were present. 
For example, the narrative of our Lord's passion, resurrection, and 

the Bible, bij W Bernhardt, minister, and principal of the Royal Cadets' Institution. (Leit- 
fadenbe.im Unterrichte in der Biblischen Geschichte und in der Bibelkunde, Sfc.) Pots- 
dam, 1842. 

• See what was said above on explanations. 

tThe present mode of instruction in the German language ia especially injurious in this 
respect. 



96 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 

ascension make the deepest impression upon sucli a child, and secure 
in him a firm historic faith. For the unimaginative reader — and such 
at last will even the most active-minded child become under the influ- 
ence of a mistaken and wearisome style of instruction — for such an 
impotent and exhausted reader, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob are names, 
and nothing more ; and their narratives are empty words, totally 
without power to bring the living scenes before their minds. The 
concrete is, with them, only a ghostly, unsubstantial abstract ; and this 
is the reason why in our times so many complaints are heard of want 
of historic faith. A generation thus wearied out in the schools will 
be, if the opportunity serves, easily betrayed by the merely moral- 
izing rationalists, or by the mythicists, who deny all truth. But 
children not thus corrupted by their teachers will read the Bible, after 
the manner of the ancient, plain, and pious painters ; and will inw'ard- 
ly behold what those painters have outwardly portrayed. Hence the 
sympathetic pleasure of children in biblical pictures, which rude 
puritans and modern iconoclasts reject and despise.* 

We can not be careful enough to avoid every thing that can in the 
least injure this simple, plastic comprehension of the Holy Scriptures, 
or can destroy the capacity for it. These injuries are, however, most 
likely to be suffered from an incessant, shallow, and prosaic sermon- 
izing and questioning by overwise teachers ; which deprives the chil- 
dren of the quiet and stillness and peaceful attention which are nec- 
essary to the realizing of the Scriptures. 

Instruction at confirmation must be so administered by reading the 
Bible, catechism, and hymns as that it shall be almost only a short 
connected review and systematization of Christian doctrine. It should 
point backward to the baptism, and forward to the expected com- 
munion, and its connected entry into the Christian church. That 
their instruction must be accordant with the doctrines of the 
church need not be urged ; it follows from the conception itself. The 
clergyman gives the instruction, as the servant of the church. 

Of what character should be the religious instruction of gymna- 
siasts already confirmed?, In reply, f- refer to two excellent little 
manuals by Prof. Thomasius.f In the first of these, intended for the 
middle classes, the kingdom of God is briefly and excellently de- 
scribed, as under the old and new covenants, after the historical de- 
velopment given in the Scriptures ; and the pupil rec<^ives a compre- 

• How different was Luther ! " Not that I am of the opinion," lie says, " that all the arts 
should be struck down and destroyed by the gospel, as some superstitious persons maintain ; 
but that I would gladly see them all in the service of him who has given and contrived them." 

t '•Outlines of Religions Instruction in the middle classes in literary schools. (Grundlinien 
zum Relig ion sunt erricht in den mittleren Klassen gelekrtcr Schuleri.) by Dr. G.Thomasius. 
Nuremberg, 1S42 " And "Outlines nf Religious Instruction for the higher classes in literary 
schools, {Grundlinien, ^"C , an den obern Klassen, Sfc.) 2d ed. Nurembtrg, lt;45." 



RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 97 

hensive view of the whole Bible, from Genesis to Revelations.* 
Upon the second of these manuals its author observes that it follows 
the order of development of revelation, " My purpose in instruction 
for the upper classes," he says, " is to bring religion near the young, 
principally but not exclusively on the side of the thinking faculties. 
Not that I ara of the perverted opinion that the secrets of the king- 
dom of God can be comprehended and demonstrated from without it 
— no one is further than I am from that belief — but there is a knowl- 
edge of revealed truth, an understanding of Christianity based upon 
faith, upon which the apostles of our Lord insist with all earnestness; 
and to produce such an understanding I consider one of the most 
important duties of the religious instructor, especially where he has to 
deal with youth already somewhat mature. At an age when reflection, 
not seldom doubt also, begin to govern, it is no longer sufficient and 
merely to testify to Christian truth in a simple manner ; but it must 
be deduced from its fixed principles and from inner necessity. I 
know well that this is by no means all ; that the proper and latest 
aim of religious instruction, life in Christ, is not in this way attained. 
And it was an especial object with me to bring forward the relations 
of revealed religion to heathenism and its manifold phases, and to 
discover points of connection between Christianity and the other 
efforts and knowledge of students ; so that it might not be an isolated 
and separate thing in the midst of their studies of the classics, but a 
living central point of their whole knowledge and life. Thus it 
would become clear to them that Jesus Christ is the true light, that 
sliineth in the darkness." 

When the religious teacher advances with such Clu-istian wisdom 
toward the teachei-s of other subjects, it only remains to be wished 
that they, oh their part, would do the like. The Christian religion 
must be the heart of all instruction. No study is strange to it, 
though one may be nearer than another. For example: When the 
philologist is reading in Tacitus, with his pupils, the life of Tiberius, is 
not a comparison forced upon him between that and the cotemporary 
life of Christ? If in Tacitus and Suetonius we become acquainted 
with a dark and godless world, sunken in sins and hatred, the light, 
peace, holiness, freedom, and love of the gospel form aii astonishing 
contrast ; and we can scarcely believe that the Lord and his ajwstles 
lived at the same period with Herod, Tiberius, Caligula, and Nero, 
It seems as if, in the first century after Christ, extraordinary gifts of 
evil had been poured out, in contrast with the extraordinary gift of 
the Holy Ghost. How strongly, in Cicero. De JVatura Deorum, do 
we see a state of loss and uncertainty, and the need of a divine reve- 

• Of ihe importance of this general view I have already spoken. 



98 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 

lalion ! The teacher of history, especially, has innumerable opportu- 
nities of referring to Christianity. Or rather, is not the whole of his- 
tory one great opportunity for the praise of Christ ? Antiquity had 
been longing for him. Not the Jews only, but with more or less 
consciousness of it the heathen also — all were longing for salvation 
from sin and death. And all the greatness, goodness, and beauty of 
the new period was born of the world-renewing power of Christ. 
More will be said on this point in discussing separate studies ; let us 
return once more to the proper religious instruction for gymnasia. 

Prof. Thoraasius says, "The aim of the whole (religious instruction 
in the gymnasia,) should be, in my opinion, to elucidate the Augs- 
burg Confession ; so that the pupil may leave the institution with the 
conviction that the faith which he has learned from the Holy Scrip- 
tures is also the faith and the confession of his church." In our own 
time of agitations and movements, within and without the church, 
this would be doubly necessary, especially for scholars who are not 
studying theology, and who will, therefore, afterward have little or 
nothing to do with ecclesiastical relations. 

In continuation of the history of the apostles, a brief church his- 
tory may be studied, giving especial prominence to the historj'^ of the 
Reformation, and to the missionary enterprises of our own day. 

In many gymnasia is read, in the two higher classes, the New 
Testament in the original. Every person, properly informed on the 
subject, will approve of not putting it into the hands of beginners, 
that they may learn the elements of Greek by means of reading it, 
as is done in many pietistic schools. It is sufficiently well known 
how repulsive those books become to the pupil who has begun his 
studies in them. Fiat experimentum in re vili holds good in this 
case also. Grammar, at this reading of the New Testament, must 
rather be only a maid-servant. But a teacher who unites with pious 
regard for the Scriptures a thorough knowledge of language, will de- 
monstrate to the pupil the importance of the assistance of so true a 
servant. And the same is true when he comes to learn the peculiar 
Greek of the New Testament. Alexander the Great was the means 
of extending the Greek language over a large area, which gave, indi- 
rectly, occasion for the Septuagint translation ; and this first broke 
down the distinction in language between Jews and Gentiles, so that 
the Old Testament escaped from its esoteric position, and became ac- 
<;essible to the Greeks. The Septuagint, again, prepared the road for 
the Greek of the New Testament, and thus for the diffusion of 
"Christianity. 

It now becomes very important to consider the entirely different 
.meanings of the same word in the heathen authors and in the New 



RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 99 

Testament. It was requisite to describe a whole new spiritual world with 
the words of the old one, and thus the significance of these words was 
changed from a heathen to a Christian sense ; they were transfigured. 

This comparison of the New Testament with classical Greek fol- 
lows naturally after previous studies in language ; and is well adapted 
to bring out the contrast between heathenism and Christianity. 

More advanced scholars will also perceive that the more detailed 
investigations in language of modern times have done much for the 
profounder and surer knowledge of the Bible, and have freed its in- 
terpretation more and more from capricious and innovating arbitrari- 
ness. The study of the particles, for instance, has often brought out 
a more delicate and elegant significance of some Bible word, which 
was beyond the reach of earlier interpreters. And the deeper it is 
penetrated, even in the philological sense, the deeper and more un- 
fathomable does the Scripture appear. 

Such a study of the original text, far from being a disadvantage, 
in point of edification, will furnish a firmer and deeper foundation for 
faith, and will render it more independent of opinions. There is a 
common notion that while, in reading Luther's translation, nothing 
but the meaning is to be attended to, and thus the reader can give 
himself entirely up to it, the reader of the original text must first la- 
bor through linguistic difficulties, which put hindrances in the way 
of his edification. But what if the same evil arises from precisely an 
opposite cause ? It is well known that most men are very little irn- 
pressed with the greatest natural phenomena — the blue vault of 
heaven, the sun, moon, stars, &c. — because they see them daily. The 
inhabitants of the vale of Chamouni wonder at Mont Blanc as little 
as do the Neapolitans and Genoese at the sea. In like manner, men 
become accustomed to the Holy Scriptures only too easily, and un- 
dergo a species of stupefaction about it because they know it from 
childhood, and even by rote. Nothing is so good a remedy against 
this stupefaction as to go from the translation back to the original 
text. What was known so long becomes suddenly new, and is also 
accompanied with a feeling that this original has a sure and unfath- 
omable depth, stimulating to profounder feeling and living, which 
must be lacking even in the best translation.* 

Conscientious parents and teachers are often in doubt as to the 
proper amount of religious instruction in family devotions, in attend- 

* In relation to tlie reading of the New Testament in the original, I differ from the author 
of the excellent article " On Evanftelical Religious Instruction in the Gymnasia," in the 
" Evangelical Church Gazette," {Evangeliecke Kirchen- Zeitung ,) 1841, No. 2, &c., although 
I quite agree with him in the main principle. In ascribing no great influence to religious in- 
struction in the family and by the confirming clergymen, while he depends entirely upon 
that in the gymnasium, he seems to have been influenced by his own experience. But how 
would it be if the gymnasia were quite heathen, and the family and the clergy Christian 1 



100 RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 

ing church, and in the employment of Sunday. They are doubtful 
whether they do not apply too little time to religious instruction, so 
as to omit some important part of it, by devoting to it a much less 
number of hours than to most other subjects of study. 

The Lord has fixed one Sabbath to every six week-days. He 
knows well that man, oppressed by his earthly tabernacle, can not 
long endure the pure atmosphere of the lofty region of Sunday. 
This principle must be remembered in judging of the proportion of 
time to be observed between religious instruction and devotional ex- 
ercises on one hand, and the remaining hours of study on the other. 
In case of doubt, it is better to give too little religious instruction 
than too much. Any one who has instructed children who have been 
previously overcrammed with religious teaching, even to repugnance 
and nauseation, will agree with me here. There is reason almost for 
despair, when such children hear of the Highest and Holiest with 
complete indifference ; especially if they have been stupefied with dif- 
fuse and superficial explanations. 

With regard to Sunday, care should be taken not to practice upon 
such a hyperpuritanical interpretation of the third commandment as 
will conflict with repeated expressions of Christ respecting the Sab- 
bath. Such puritans as I refer to forbid even to do good on the Sab- 
bath ; even to knit stockings and make shirts for poor barefooted 
boys. They forbid truly spiritual music, the most innocent walks, 
and what not. Nothing could be imagined more proper to disgust 
children with the really pleasant system of Christianity. To this ex- 
travagant puritanism an opposite is a wicked indifference, which de- 
velops into frivolity and recklessness. The curse " In the sweat of 
thy face shalt thou eat bread " was alleviated by a good God, by the 
ordinance of a day of rest, in which we may relieve ourselves of the 
earthly labor of the week, and, in looking forward to our heavenly rest, 
may enjoy a foretaste of it. It is an ignorant self-enmity with which 
so many transgress this most loving commandment, and labor restlessly 
on and on, like so many machines, week-days and Sundays together. 

And what multitudes, in the most fearfully sinful manner, violate 
the day of the Lord — a dreadful desecration which is increasing ter- 
ribly in our own times. 

Every man should protect his own children from the company of 
such ; and should say, like Joshua, " But as for me and my house, we 
will serve the Lord." 

The subject should first be treated on the supposition that the family, the clergy, and the 
gymnasia are all Christian ; and the case should afterward be dealt with where faith and 
piety are supposed to be lacking in either of them. 



APHORISMS ON TEACHING HISTORY. 

fTranalated from Raumer's "History of Pedagogy," for thU American JournHl, of Education.] 



1. Views on the proper mode of teaching history are exceedingly- 
different, and even contradictory. Such oppositions in other depart- 
ments of study are usually based upon the discrepancy between the 
old and new pedagogy ; but in the case of history it is not so. 

2. First, to define intelligibly the object of our discussion. Shall 
•we teach history, in the widest acceptation of the term — what is 
called universal history, which treats of all periods and all nations ? 

Although history, under this name, is taught in most gymnasia, 
yet neither the instruction in it, nor any one manual of it, corres- 
ponds to this idea of it. For what text-book " includes all nations ? " 
Are not the Americans, for instance, usually omitted ? as well as most 
of the African nations, except the Egyptians, Carthaginians, and 
other nations of northern Africa, who were connected with the Ro- 
mans ? And how large a portion of Asia is altogether neglected ! 

3. This neglect is for two reasons. One is, that we know either 
very httle or nothing at all of the history of many nations. This 
is the case respecting those of America. The other is, that we prefer 
not to know any thing of the history of other nations ; or, at least, 
do not wish the pupils in our schools to be occupied with it. Thus, 
for example, the Indians and Chinese are scarcely mentioned, though 
there is no lack of historical authorities on these subjects. 

4. But there is also a great distinction between the modes of treat- 
ing such histories of nations as are included in our histories of the 
world ; inasmuch as in some of them we go into much greater detail 
than in others. We give less fully the history of the Persians than 
that of the Greeks ; of the Russians than of the English. 

5. Universal history, in like manner, as we teach it, does not in- 
clude all people of all times and countries, and it does not give the 
same degree of attention to those nations of whom it does treat. 
By what standard does it proceed in this ? Is it according to dig- 
nity, so that the more enlightened nations are made more prominent, 
and those less so left in the background ? This is by no means the 
only rule; for, if it were, the Hindoos, for instance, would fill an ira- 



102 



APHORISMS ON TEACHING HISTORY. 



Dortant place in it. For how high a position do they occupy in elo- 
quence, poetry, mathematics, &c. 

Why do we give so much attention to the Egyptians, for example, 
•when the Hindoos were certainly not their inferiors'? 

6. The answer is this. In like manner as individual men take pai"- 
ticular interest in the biography of their own ancestors, and of such 
persons as have exercised much influence upon their own training, 
employment, or labors, so does each nation take most interest in its 
own history first, and next in that of those nations which are related 
to it in language, manners, &c., or which have directly or indirectly 
exercised a great influence upon it. 

7. In the history of what nations should we, as Germans, feel most 
interest ? 

First : in that of ourselves. History of our own country, ancient 
and modern. 

Second : in that of the Jews, since salvation is of them, down to 
the time of Christ, and including the destruction of Jerusalem. 

Third : in that of the Romans ; to whose Orhis our nation form- 
erly belonged, and whose influence is perceptible among us even now. 
Related studies are Latin, the Corpus Juris, history of the Catholic 
church, <kc. 

Fourth : in that of the Greeks ; whom we recognize as directly or 
indirectly our instructors. 

Fifth : in that of such ancient nations as were in more or less close 
relations with the Jews, Romans, and Greeks ; as the Assyrians, Chal- 
deans, Persians, Egyptians, Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Arabs, &c. 
These are, however, not so nearly connected with us as are the Jews, 
Romans, and Greeks, and they are more distantly related to our char- 
acter and history. 

The history of most of these nations is previous to the time of 
Christ, and belongs to the ancient period. 

The Hindoos and the Chinese have not, within the historical period, 
been either directly related to the Germans, nor in such close connec- 
tions with any nation in proximity to us as would enable their influ- 
ence to reach us through them ; and thus, with us, they stand in the 
background. 

Since the time of Christ, Europe forms one Christian whole. Still, 
the Slavic races are further from us than the Romance ones, or the 
German ones ; not to mention still slighter shades of difference, as, 
for instance, the fact that, among the Romance nations, the Italians 
are sensibly more nearly related to us than the Spaniards, and they 
than the Portuguese. 

8. These remarks may furnish a standard by which to adjust the 



APHORISMS ON TEACHING HISTORY. j()3 

extent of the attention devoted to each nation in text-books and 
school lessons ; which is the*|:)oint to which I am to speak. The case 
is entirely different, when a historical investigator devotes his atten- 
tion to some obscure national history, without any reference to its re- 
lations with his own country, and wliich is very properly omitted 
from school studies. For such a student the human race is one ; and 
even those races, whose relationship to and connection with our own 
is hidden in tlie darkness of times long forgotten, come gradually as- 
tonishingly near to us. How unmistakably, for instance, does a 
comparison of Sanscrit with German point to a primeval unity of the 
German and Hindoo races. 

9. After the object of historical instruction is determined — that is, 
what is to be taught — the question arises, How are we to set about 
instructing ; what is to be our method ? In this respect, also, is 
there the greatest variety of opinions among instructors. 

In the first place, there is an opposition similar to that in the case 
of geography. The beginning may be made, that is, either with gen- 
eral or with particular subjects. In geography, for example, one begins 
with discussing and describing the whole surface of the earth ; while 
another commences, as old Merian did, with describing single towns. 

10. Thus, in history, a beginning may be made either with a sketch, 
of the most generalized kind, of the history of the world — we have 
seen what is to be understood by the history of the world — or witli 
biographies of individual men. 

Of these two extremes the first naturally induces the second. 
"What can boys do," ask some, with general history? They will 
learn names and dates of years, and nothing more. Where the scope 
of the subject is so great, the matters which are of most importance 
to youth, such as vivid portraits of individuals, great men, instructive 
occurrences, &c., can not be properly considered. We would, there- 
fore, begin with the biographies of Alexander, Geesar, Mohammed, &e. ; 
and this method must certainly be more agreeable to the young 
than the general historical method. 

To this the opponents of this method would reply : — " Did these 
heroes, whom you would describe, live as isolated appearances, in an 
age otherwise empty ? Did not each of them belong to his nation ? 
Can I comprehend Caesar without knowing the Romans ; or the Ro- 
mans, without knowing the Greeks and Carthaginians ? Shall I not 
therefore be obliged, in order to delineate my hero, to describe his 
nation ; and indeed all the nations which were in close connection 
with it? xVnd does not this, of course, bring us to the method of 
general history ? " 

I do not subscribe to either of these conflicting views: each of 



104 APHORISMS ON TEACHING HISTORY. 

the parties seems to me, however, to be right in its objections to the 
other. 

11. In late yeare there have been those who have maintained that 
we ought to begin the instruction in history with that of the native 
country ; since that is nearer to us than Greece, Rome, <kc. This 
view seems at first so simple and natural that it attracts us ; but, 
upon closer consideration, one who is moderately acquainted with the 
history of Germany would be slow to adopt it. Are not the most im- 
portant periods of German history — such, for instance, as the mediaeval 
contest between the popes and the emperors — of a character far too 
difficult for the intellects of boys?- Do they not require, for even a 
moderate understanding of them, a comprehension of the science of 
church and state, and of their mutual relations? And other equally 
significant questions might be asked ; as, for example, whether a boy 
of from ten to twelve years old is capable of understanding the 
movements of the Reformation ? 

12. I now turn from methods which I do not approve to the con- 
sideration of those which I consider correct. 

The first beginning of historical instruction is, in part, coincident 
with religious instruction. Christ stands upon the bounds which sep- 
arate ancient and modern history. Ancient history is related to him, 
lives in him ; and he is the creator of the modern period, and will re- 
main with us until the end of the world. 

In this department we first become acquainted with the evangel- 
ists — the history of Christ — and thus acquire the capacity to learn 
aright, both in ancient history and modern, whither the former tend- 
ed and whither the latter is tending. 

Historical instruction proper I would commence with the Old 
Testament. My reasons are these : — * 

1. Because the Old Testament history does not begin arbitrarily at 
any particular period, but at the beginning — the Creation. 

2. Because this history is at once so simple and so vividly graphic. 
The persons and scenes of the Old Testament impress themselves in- 
voluntarily upon the mind. Its descriptions and narratives excite the 
children's imaginations to the forming of mental pictures, which re- 
main in their minds, instead of merely passing through their memo- 
ries, like mere names which have no actual existence. The Bible 
does eminently well what is required by the adherents of the bio- 
graphical method of studying history. 

3. Because the history of the Jews is a remarkably individualized 
one. It is the history of the people of God, chosen out and set apart 

* It should be understood that, for the purpose of historical instruction, many parts of the 
Old Testament should be omitted, and left to be read at a maturer age. 



APHORISMS ON TEACHING HISTORY. IQ5 

from the heathen ; and for this very reason it is more intelligible 
when separate from others — not incessantly referring to foreign na- 
tions, whose existence connects itself with its own, and thus requires 
some full knowledge of their history. This makes the mastery of it 
much more simple, and enables the attention to be directed, without 
divergence or confusion, to this one nation exclusively. This limita- 
tion of the subject is excellently adapted to the dimensions of the 
minds of school-children. 

4. Because the history of the Jews is a theocratical one, in whicb 
the finger of God is visibly seen. God, to whom all his works are 
known from the beginning, the educator of the human race, often 
withdraws himself from sight in the history of other nations, as if he 
had given men over to themselves ; and it is a characteristic of pro- 
found historical research and knowledge to look beyond the acci- 
dents of the time, and to recognize the justice of God ruling over 
the nations and over individuals. In the history of the Jews, on the 
contrary, the divine punishment follows sin, as the thunder does the 
lightning ; while the blessings of the just — as in the case of David — 
fall visibly upon him and his posterity. 

5. Because the Old Testament history not only reveals the true 
God in his justice, but also in his infinite mercy. While it relates 
the origin of sin, and with sacred impartiality reveals the sins even of 
men of God, yet it is a book of encouragement and of hope ; be 
cause it every where points toward the coming Saviour. 

Such a history furnishes the first point of view from which correct- 
ly to understand and estimate the history of other nations. It is the 
foundation — and even more, it is the living heart — of the history of 
the world. As Palestine was a land most isolated in situation, yet ad- 
mirably adapted to become related to the Roman world, so the ancient 
Jewish history is a most individualized and isolated one, and yet con- 
tains within itself a living energy which enables it, at the epoch of 
Christ, to open out into a most comprehensive history of the world. 

With the Old Testament are connected the histories of the Assyri- 
ans, Chaldeans, Medes, Persians, and Egyptians ; for which, indeed, 
the Bible itself is one of the authorities. Daniel refers to Alexander 
the Great. The Apocrypha, with Josephus, fills up the gap be- 
tween the return from exile and the time of Christ. And at this 
last point the history of the Greeks and Romans joins on to that of 
the Jews. 

13. We now come to a point of divergence. Hitherto, history, 
entirely biblical, has been the same for all Christian children ; but 
here there arise distinctions, depending on condition and sex. 

Boys will either study for a learned profession, or not. The former 



106 APHORISMS ON TEACHING HISTORY. 

study Greek and Latin, and can and must be introduced to the 
sources of Greek and Roman history. These sources include not mere- 
ly the historians, but all the classic authors ; for they all characterize 
their nations. 

Now, should the boys be carried through a detailed history of both 
the classic nations, omitting the classic authors, bC'fore they read the 
latter ? By no means ; but still they should study a brief outline of 
it, with reference to the future reading of the classics. This outline 
will serve to fix correctly their ideas in chronology, just as their pre- 
vious geographical studies have done in space. But it is not intend- 
ed that this portion of study should be completed during their at- 
tendance at the gymnasium. 

The case is different with boys of the higher ranks, who will not 
study a profession, and with girls. These may study a more detailed 
history; since nothing can be left for a subsequent reading of the 
classics. But this history must still be written throughout in an easy 
and popular style, and must not demand any previously acquired 
learning in order to its comprehension. Both Greek and Roman his- 
tory must be presented in their relations to the kingdom of God ; 
and the opposite characters of heathenism, and Christianity must be 
presented. A description of the Roman Empire at the time of Christ 
is of special importance. 

14. We now come to modern history. Roman history forms the 
transition to it, belonging as it does to both ancient and modern 
times. Boys preparing for the university may study, for this, Taci- 
tus ; but not the writers on the Augustan period. At about the 
epoch of the Antonines begins a period, the original authorities on 
which are scarcely studied except by professional historians. How 
few are there who read Cassiodorus, Jornandes, the Byzantine histo- 
rians, the Latin writers of the middle ages ; how many, indeed, even 
understand the older and middle-age High German ? 

At this point, it will be said, come in the eminent modern 
historians. 

I can not refer, for this purpose, to classic writers generally, as I 
did for ancient history. One reason for this is, that only a few 
among the modern writers are really able ; and among these there 
are few, again, whose treatment of history is not quite beyond the 
capacity of youth. Such a one is Spittler, for example. A second 
reason is, that to read Herodotus and Sallust is an actual intellectual 
labor for the pupil ; he is obliged to pay earnest attention to the 
course of the history to master his tasks. And it is only too 
commonly, on the other hand, that young persons read the 
German historians merely for amusement, very much as they seek 



APHORISMS ON TEACHING HISTORY. 107 

after romances, to pass away the time in indulging their im- 
aginations. 

The teacher, I say, should not refer to the modern historians as he 
does to the ancient ones ; especially, not as if they were soon to be 
read in school. By this I do not mean that he should proceed as if 
they did not exist ; he should give his pupils a sketch of modern his- 
tory, as of ancient, with reference to the fact that they will sooner or 
later read the good German historians, and perhaps the English ones. 
This sketch should be fullest of our own history ; and more or less 
so of the other European nations, according as they are nearer to or 
further from us, or have more or less interest for us. 

1.5. The question will arise, How many facts, &c., should the pu- 
pil fix in his memory ? I reply, first, Rather too few than too many. 
That is a very great error, into which teachers of history h\\, of often 
laying upon their pupils burthens which they themselves could not 
endure. Instead of selecting remarkable men and occurrences, and 
giving the proper dates of them to be memorized, they torment the 
boys with a mass of minutiae "for future oblivion ; " that is, which they 
will forget as soon as they leave the class. There is no better means 
than this for inspiring them with a most thorough disgust for history, 
and one from which they can afterward scarcely free themselves. 

The opposite extreme from this cramming process must, however, 
be avoided— of being too kind to the boys, so as to make them ineffi- 
cient and afraid of labor. There are teachers so tender of the boys 
that they are reluctant to make them commit to memory the multi- 
plication table. Every one knows how easily the memory of the 
young receives and retains facts, names, and dates, unless, indeed, an 
unwise teacher has broken it down by unreasonable burdens or entire 
neglect. It is well known that, when this has happened, the sufferer, 
when grown up, can only with difficulty, or not at all, repair the 
damage thus inflicted. But we are in after years thankful to our in- 
structors in history, if we retain from their lessons as much even as 
the succession of the German emperors and the length of their 
reigns ; and are thus enabled so to measure our own historical stud- 
ies as that we can proceed in them without having our mental pro- 
cesses interrupted by defects of recollection. 

16. The more thought is bestowed upon the plan for historical in- 
struction to be pursued in our schools, the more diflicult will it ap- 
pear to lay down any universal rules on the subject. And these rules 
should, in any event, be only of a most generalized character ; and 
not such as to bind down the teacher to any course of details. The 
reason of this chief rule is, that historical instruction is eminently 
dependent upon the personal gifts of the teacher. Shall he, for in- 



108 APHORISMS ON TEACHING HISTORY. 

Stance, make much or little use of a free, narrative method ? Should 
he not rather select extracts from historians and read them ? I reply. 
This depends upon whether the teacher has the talent of narrating — 
a very uncommon one. It supposes not only a man of historical 
knowledge, but the gift of naiTating historical facts simply, lucidly, 
orderly, and fluently, without error or hesitation. And it also requires, 
above all, a clear and sensible mind, heartily despising that mere dec- 
lamation for effect, which is only too often made a cloak for igno- 
rance, and is well adapted to destroy at once the scholar's taste and 
his sense of truth. 

If the teacher is skillful and conscientious, as few rules as possible 
should be prescribed to him, and it would be better to have none at 
all ; for no one can properly claim to understand teaching better than 
the teacher himself, whose mind has been expressly trained and prac- 
ticed in his calling as its proper field of labor. Such prescribed rules 
must, at best, be able to restrain mediocre and bad instructors from 
ruining their scholars entirely. If unskillfully made, they constrain 
and confine the best teachers. 

IV. We have very many text-books of history, from the briefest 
compends up to voluminous and detailed works. 

The former are intended for school use ; and furnish very brief, con- 
densed sketches, which are to be filled out and made vivid by the 
teacher's oral instructions. The pupil, during his study, obtains from 
them the subjects which are to come up during instruction ; and the 
manual serves, by means of recitation from it, as an aid to the mem- 
ory, as the short entries in a memorandum-book do. These com- 
pends may be even without any style at all — in a tabular form. 

Other compends pretend to possess a good and readable style, and 
that no additional oral matter from the teacher is necessary. They 
are calculated to assist persons studying without teachers, without any 
other aid. They claim, notwithstanding, to be compends ; although, 
as a general rule, they embarrass the teacher who uses them, because 
they deprive him of the most important and interesting portions of 
his materials. The pupil who prepares himself from a compend of 
this nature is sated with the subject when he comes to the class, and 
the teacher's words have no interest for him. Indeed, the teacher 
can, in this case, at most, do no more than to give instruction, by con- 
versation and examination upon prescribed tasks, out of the book, 
prepared by the pupil for each lesson. 

Voluminous historical manuals are intended only for those who 
study without a teacher. They can not fill the place of compends in 
instruction. 

18. There is as great a difference between historical compends for 



APHORISMS ON TEACHING HISTORY. 109 

men and tliose for boys as between a catechism and a system of dog- 
matic theology, or between a grammar for beginners and one for 
philologists. This difference consists not so much in the greater or 
smaller number of historical facts as in the selection of them ; in its 
choice, for instance, of the more abstract civic and ecclesiastical rela- 
tions, or of more pictorial representations of great men and occur- 
rences. It depends upon the spirit in which the book deals with 
history. 

A childlike and delicate tact may be exercised in the selection from 
the text-book of what is proper and comprehensible for beginners. 
The youngest pupils will prefer historical m.atter which is as near as 
possible in character to stories ; they only gradually grow into a feel- 
ing for historical truth. Observe, for instance, what are the actual 
points of interest to children. They take pleasure in hearing of 
Marathon and Salamis, and of the campaigns of Alexander ; but 
none in the contests between the patricians and plebeians of Rome, of 
the agrarian law, »fec. They are not usually as much interested in 
Caesar as in Alexander.* In brief, they are pleased with whatever 
stimulates their imagination by beauty, greatness, nobility, chivalric 
bravery, and adventurousness ; but not with any thing that is cold or 
purely intellectual, such as the subject of civic relations and civil 
controversies. Such matters are repulsive to them. 

There are compendiums, as well as teachers, who do not use suffi- 
cient care in observing what children like and can understand. We 
are now speaking, let it be remembered, of school-children, not of 
students, who have reached the verge of adult age and of civic life. 
These latter very properly require a presentation of the subject which 
does not merely seek to please by an exciting narrative, but which 
shall tend to direct and fix their minds in a knowledge of the true 
and serious nature of the approaching labors of their life as citizens, 
and for the great and solemn problems of human life generally. 

We have thus discussed the beginning of the study of history. 
What, now, is its ultimate object — the purpose of all the labor be- 
stowed upon it? What are the highest aims which we have in view 
in the lower as well as the higher stages of progress in the study ? 
Let us prepare to answer by deciding a narrower preliminary ques- 
tion : — What do we desire to learn from the biography of an indi- 
vidual man ? I reply. The problems of his life, and their solution. 
The history of the world is the biography of the human species — 
under which nations are the varieties. What are the gifts and the 
problems of humanity — of single nations ? " There are many gifts, 

* Of the Romaus, childrea— like Livy — make a special favorite of the elder Scipl*. 



110 



APHORISMS ON TEACHING HISTORY. 



but one spirit." Whence do we come — whither do we go — we, all 
men, taken as one representative man ? 

When an individual dies, we ask, What has become of him ? 
And millions and millions have, in like manner, died during the 
course of time, and what has become of them ? History plays over 
graves ; and future generations, like past ones, are all drawing toward 
the great necropolis. When will the dominion of death be ended ? 
Does the end of Time — the beginning of Eternity — now approach, 
when they shall no longer be born or die ? 

The infancy of man is lost in the darkness of the past, and its future 
fate in that of the future. No man has investigated and understood 
death ; and none has escaped over the limits of that unknown land 
from which no wanderer returns. 

At this point Revelation appears, displays to us a part of the fu- 
ture, and opens to us the knowledge of our race — so highly gifted, so 
fallen away from God, and saved and forgiven through Christ. It 
encourages us as to the departed, and prophesies the resurrection of 
the dead and the Last Judgment. At this tribunal, love will be the 
rule of procedure ; to him who hath loved much, much shall be 
forgiven. 

What pride lost, the lowliness of Christ has recovered. With the 
crucifixion and resurrection of Christ began a new creation, the re- 
generation of a fallen and saved world, the establishment of the 
kingdom of God, in which all contentions shall cease. It is the 
kingdom of a love that shall never cease, because it is stronger than 
death. 



GEOGRAPHY. 

(Translated from Raumer's '■^History of Pedagogy," for the American Journal of Education.] 



Pestalozzi mentions a schoolmaster who instructed his scholars 
in geography so skillfully that they were well acquainted with the 
road to the East Indies, but very ill with the roads and paths about 
their own village. And Rousseau says : "I assert that no child of ten 
years old, who has had two years' instruction in geography, can, by 
using the rules which have been given to him, find his way from Pa- 
ris to Saint Denis ; or can even find his way about the curved paths 
in his own father's garden, without making a mistake. And these 
are the learned men who know, to a hair, whereabouts are Pekin, Is- 
pahan, Mexico, and all the countries of the earth."* The reason of 
this practical incapacity Rousseau found to be that the children were 
taught maps only ; the names of qities, countries, and rivers, which 
existed, for the scholars, only on the maps where they were shown to 
them. He advised, on the contrary, to commence instruction in ge- 
ography by furnishing the boys with correct knowledge of the neigh- 
borhood of their own place of abode, and making them draw maps 
of it. 

These views of Rousseau seemed the more reasonable to me, be- 
cause I. had spent years in geognostic researches among the mountains, 
and knew by experience the heaven-wide difference between a knowl- 
edge of a map and of a country. I composed a dialogue upon teach- 
ing geography, in which I set forth Rousseau's views in detail. The 
speakers were Otto and George. "Before I made my first tour to the 
Silesian mountains," says George, "I read over all that I could find 
respecting them in books of travels. The result of this reading was, 
that I formed in my mind so distinct an idea of those mountains 
that I could have painted them from these descriptions. I came 
among the mountains themselves; and, to my astonishment, the 
mountains of my imagination had no resemblance whatever to the 
real ones." And he says, again, "Permit me to add something fur- 
ther, in order to make my meaning clear. If any one inquires of 
you about the features of your room, or your house, you describe 
them to him according to the representation of them which is be- 
fore your mind ; not according to such a representation before your 

* Second book of " Entile." 



23^2 GEOGRAPHY. 

mind of ground-plans or elevations. If you are asked about ft 
house in your neighborhood, you answer in like manner, not accord- 
ing to any representation before your mind of a plan of the city, but 
according to a representation — such as your faculties have made it — 
of the city itself; you say through what streets the questioner must 
go to reach the houses, and you point it out to him by shape, color, 
and peculiarities. And you can in the same way describe localities 
in the neighborhood of the city — unless you are an inveterate stayer 
at home. But how will it be if any one inquires of you for direc- 
tions to a place say twenty-five miles distant? Will the picture of 
the road in that case still be clear before your mind, as it runs in 
through the fields and the woods, so that you can tell through what 
villages and over what waters it passes, how you must leave this 
mountain on the right hand and that castle on the left ? Or will 
not your imagination in this case be at fault ; will you not have for- 
gotten many portions of the road, and have but an obscure recollec- 
tion of others? May you not even have quite forgotten the whole 
road ?" And when Otto answers, "This is the case for which maps 
are intended," George rephes, "Then you must have within you the 
rejjresentation of the maps instead of that of the localities, and give 
your directions wholly from that, or else your recollection of the map 
will mingle in a confusing manner with that of the ground.'' And, 
at last, when the question is put, "How does the road run from your 
residence in Germany to Canton, for instance, or Irkutsk ? " it ap- 
pears that all representations in the mind of the extensive regions 
over which you must travel will quite disappear, and the representa- 
tion of the map will entirely occupy their place. 

Otto now calls attention to the necessarily limited extent of the 
knowledge of most persons respecting countries. No Titan, he says, 
is born, who can give information about the whole earth as fully as 
we can about our own homes and places of abode — who carries in 
his mind representations of all lands and nations. We must there- 
fore make use of indirect knowledge, of some kind, in the place of 
direct. Whether this indirect knowledge shall begin with the district 
in which the learner lives, or the kingdom — whether with a smaller 
or larger area — is of but small importance. 

George. What you say is like what I once heard alledged against 
the intuitional method in arithmetic, which Pestalozzi urged so earn- 
estly. What is the use of it ? asked its opponents ; in the case of 
large numbers, all actual pictures of them must disappear from the 
mind. Who can imagine even a hundred apples ? Away, therefore, 
with all intuitional arithmetic. 

Otto. I ajrree with them. 



GEOGRAPHY. II3 

George. I do not. I think the power of intuition should be devel- 
oped as far as to the number ten, which can be counted on the 
fingere. So far the smallest capacities might attain. Then the tens, 
and afterward the hundreds and thousands, might be treated as 
units, and thus, by means of the wonderful decimal system, the most 
monstrous numbers can be dealt with. Without this intuitional 
knowledge, from one to ten, the children are liable to run into a mere 
course of juggling by means of the decimal system, without gaining 
a clear and intelligent knowledge of arithmetic. 

Otlo. And what is your application of all this to geography ? 

George. The numbers from one to ten are the boy's place of 
abode, the man's country ; they are the Archimedean point in geog- 
raphy. He who understands them thoroughly may acquaint himself 
with other countries, 

George now proceeds to explain how, according to Rousseau's sys- 
tem, the boys may be carried onward from the knowledge of, and 
ability to map out, the neighborhood — their home and its vicinity — to 
an acquaintance with foreign countries and the ability to describe 
them. During youth and manhood. Re says, they may take jour- 
neys, especially within their German fatherland, and to countries 
most interesting to Germans, and may thus enlarge their direct 
knowledge of countries. But, he adds, how great soever their knowl- 
edge is, it can never include the whole earth ; and this fact forces us 
to use substitutes — to supply the defect by means of a symbolical 
knowledge of the earth. And he explains this symbolical knowledge 
as follows : — 

The sphere of the individual man is limited in space and in time ; 
he can not exceed the measure of his bodily growth, nor add a single 
year to his life, nor do wings bear him over the earth. Yet his mind 
belongs not merely to the immediate present, but to a greater spirit- 
ual universe. Thus there is an incongruity between the wide aspira- 
tions of his mind and the limitations of his mortal body. The use 
of symbols is a mode of reconciling this incongruity. 

There are two kinds of symbols ; arti6cial and natural. The arti- 
ficial symbol brings before the mind original ideas, by means of rep- 
resentations ; while the natural sees the original idea in the parts of 
it. Permit me to give a brief illustration of these two kinds of sym- 
bols. You can represent Paris to yourself by plans of the city, pan- 
oramas, models, descriptions — by the most various kinds of represent- 
ations, based upon an actual immediate observation of Paris. You 
see the city mirrored in another mind. These I call artificial sym- 
bols. P)ut suppose you could remain for some- time in some house 
in Paris, without leaving it. You would see and hear from, your 



J 14 GEOGRAPHY. 

window the various noise and haste, the running, and the outcries of 
laborers and tradespeople, the mountebanks and marionnettes, cabs 
and water-carriers, national guards and chestnut-sellers, cobblers and 
fishwives, and thus, by your observation of a small part of the city, 
you would obtain a knowledge of it as a whole, by the method of 
natural symbols. Ex ungue leonem. 

Now put the earth in the place of Paris. We have all manner of 
representations of it : globes, maps, reliefs, pictures, and engravings 
of localities, cities, and buildings, descriptions of all countries, and 
general descriptions, compiled from the descriptions of individual im- 
mediate observers. These representations are, some of them, of late 
invention, such as reliefs and panoramas ; and in part they have been 
so improved, within the last century or two, that they must now be 
treated as entirely new subjects — as is the case with maps. 

Thus there has arisen, during these last centuries, a most earnest 
and thoughtful endeavor to create, by means of these various repre- 
sentations, a new earth on the earth — the greatest of all artistic ef- 
forts. To this end point the untiring zeal shown in collecting beasts, 
animals, and minerals from al^ parts of the world ; and the investi- 
gations of all the nations, their languages and manners. "Who can 
tell how far this unwearied zeal will go? As man's susceptibility to 
impressions increases by early travels within his own country, and at 
the same time his own powers of representing, and his capacity for 
comprehending the representations of others, which again are on their 
part becoming more and more perfect, who can tell to what a degree 
of broad, general comprehension of the whole earth one can attain 
who is acquainted with his own country, by means of intercourse and 
artificial symbols ? 

In describing natural symbols, George says : — 

As at Paris you would become acquainted with Paris itself by 
looking out of your window, and not with a representation of it — 
learning the whole from a part — so should you gain from your own 
country a knowledge of the whole earth ; this portion of the earth 
should be to you a symbol of the whole of it. Do not the sun, 
moon, and stars shine upon your own country as they do upon all the 
rest of the world ? Does nut the magnetic needle, that living repre- 
sentative of the earth's magnetic axis, point to the north before your 
-eyes ? Are not the mountains of your own country constructed al- 
■most exactly as are those of all other parts of the world ; and are not 
Iher j^lants and animals the same, or of the same species, which are 
found ttroiighout a great part of the world ? Open your eyes, and 
your own home will be seen to be as a new paradise, having gath- 
•ered together in it all the creatures of the earth. Learn, however, 



GEOGRAPHY. 



115 



first of all, to know and love your own people ; and this, will lead 
you to the comprehension of humanity as it exists throughout the 
whole earth. Thus direct knowledge of your own country is an ob- 
ject in itself, and affords the means of understanding representative 
descriptions of the earth — the geography of artificial symbols — while 
its thorough development also forms a basis for the geography of 
natural symbols, which shows, in our own country, the features which 
characterize the whole earth. 

Four years after writing this dialogue, I went to Nuremberg, and 
there taught geography for the first time. The question came up, 
whether my views in this department of instruction, based upon 
Rousseau's, would stand the test of practice ? And I must confess 
that they did not. 

Taking walks — an aimless wandering about the neighborhood — 
was very pleasant to the boys. But when a definite purpose was 
contemplated in these walks — when the boys were made to gain cor- 
rect knowledge in them, consciously and of purpose, and were again 
made to use all their knowledge in Rawing a map, all their enjoy- 
ment of the walk was at once destroyed. Instead of being a relaxa- 
tion and a relief from the school -lessons, they became merely peripa- 
tetic lessons themselves. This dislike of theirs proved to me clearly 
that my theory of geographical instruction was wrong ; and I gave 
it up. 

I afterward, however, attained my purpose of making my pupils 
use a knowledge of their abode and its vicinity as an introduction to 
the understanding of maps, and even of the globe, in a manner ap- 
parently similar to that which had failed, but really very different. 
During the geographical instruction which I gave in Eriangen, I be- 
gan, for instance, with a large plan of the city. The pupik exam- 
ined this with the most lively interest, and picked out all the streets, 
their own homes and those of their acquaintance, and the churches 
and other public buildings. They could not satisfy themselves with 
looking, and their researches had no end. 

After this I gave them a large and very fully detailed plan. On 
this the city itself was, of course, smaller than on the first plan, but 
was still clearly laid down. The pupils now first carefully compared 
the two representations of the city, and observed their resemblance, 
and how they differed only in the difference of their scale. 

They then looked out upon this map all the neighboring localities 
with which they had become familiar during their walks, and fol- 
lowed the roads from the city to one place and another, vieing with 
each other in the exercise. Those who were less accurate in their 



116 GEOGRAPHY. 

knowledge afterward of themselves directed their excursions to 
points not known by them, and others searched out new routes. 
Without my having at any time imposed this acquisition of correct 
knowledge upon them as a task, they came at last to have a good 
knowledge both of the localities themselves and of the map of them. 
The map did not become, what Rousseau finds so much fault with, " a 
mere set of marks, without any equivalent conception in the mind of 
the thing represented." 

After this map of the neighborhood of Erlangen, I placed before 
them one of Middle Franconia. The area of the last map occupied 
but a small space on this. But, on the other hand, it included a 
much larger surface ; and the pupils could pick out upon it Nurem- 
berg, Fiirth, Forchheim, Bamberg, and other places which they knew, 
and also the villages, &c., which they had observed on the roads to 
these larger places, 

I need not add the details of the course by which I went on to ex- 
hibit Middle Franconia as but a small part of Germany, that as one 
part of Europe, and Europe as one part of the whole earth. 

Even while the pupils were occupied with the neighborhood of Er- 
langen, I at the same time began to instruct them, in the simplest 
manner, about the cardinal points, the rising and setting of the sun 
at different times of the year, and its place at noon. Those city 
streets which ran north and south, and over whose southern ends the 
sun thus stood at noon in summer, were of great assistance in this 
course of instruction. 

I am here only discussing the first beginning of geographical in- 
struction. If now it be inquired, Why is this method adapted to 
beginners, and not the systematic examination of localities and map- 
drawing along with it? the explanation is to be found, as I have already 
shown, in the dislike of children to what is purposeful and method- 
ical. In the school, they are satisfied to have every thing go on in 
the faxed routine ; but they think it unendurable and even unjust to 
apply school discipline to their whole lives, and even to their walks. 
And, moreover, it is natural for beginners to prefer good and well- 
drawn maps to the imperfect and ill-looking ones which they scratch 
off with so much pains and weariness. And, again, when they find 
out, as by my method, that they have been acquiring knowledge in 
taking walks, they are as delighted as was M. Jourdain in the 
" Bourgeois Oentilhomme^'' when he found out that he had been talk- 
ing prose all his life without knowing it. 

After having made a beginning in tliis way, I was at a loss to 
know what geographical text-book to use in my subsequent instruc- 



GEOGRAPHY. H'j 

tion. In most of the older manuals I failed to find a proper arrange- 
ment, either in general or in the description of particulars ; and many 
of them were also faulty in selection of materials, and in the proper 
proportions of it. 

The lack of proper general arrangement appeared most promi- 
nently in the fact that the authors had not sufficiently distinguished 
between what is proper for a universal geography and what be- 
.longed to a description of particular parts of the earth and countries.* 

To illustrate' the extreme want of good order in describing subor- 
dinate portions of the earth, I give the following enumeration of 
German mountains and lakes, which I request the reader to follow on 
a map: "The principal mountains are, the Harz, (Brocken, .3,495 feet 
high;) Schwarzwald, (Feldberg, 4,610 ft. ;) the rocky Alps, the Rhae- 
tian and Noric Alps, (Orteles or Ortles, 14,814^ ft.; Grossglockner, 
11,982 ft.; Hochhorn, 10,667 ft.; Platey-Kugel, 9,748 ft; AVatz- 
mann, 9,150 ft.;) the Carnic and Julian Alps, (Terglou, 10,845 ft.;) 
the Fichtelgebirge, the Schneeberge, 3,468 ft. ; the Kahlenberg, the 
Birnbaumerwald, the Sudetic Alps, and Riesengebirge, (Riesenkoppe, 
4,950 ft. ;) the Moravian mountain.?, (Spieglitzer Schneeberg, 4,280 
ft.;) part of the Carpathians, connected by low bights with the Mo- 
ravian and Sudetic chains, the Thuringian mountains, the Erzgebirge, 
the Sjiessart, the Rhone mountains, the Bohmerwald, (Rachel, 3,904 
ft.; Arber, 4,500 ft.;) the Wesergebirge, Westervvald, Odenwald, Ar- 
dennes, Vosges, Hundsriick, &c. Lakes : Lake of Constance, (seven 
miles long, three miles broad, and more than three hundred fathoms 
deep;) Chiemsee, Lake of Cirknitz, the salt and sweet lake of Mans- 
feld, the lakes of Mecklenburg, Brandenburg, and Pomerania, the 
Diimmersee, the Traunstatter and Hallstatter in archducal Austria, 
the Steinhuder Lake," &c. 

Nor is this example of confused and disorderly arrangement from 
the earliest best geography, but from the favorite manual of Stein, 
■which has been translated even into Polish, and from the fourteenth 
edition of it. 

But many geographical manuals are also deficient in proper selec- 
tion and proportion of materials. They contain unimportant matter, 
and omit the most important. Murray, for instance, in his description 
of Cologne, mentions Farina's eau de Cologne, but not the cathedral. 
They sometimes contain statements of results in natural science which 
are quite problematical or even altogether inadmissible — such as youth 
should not be informed about. They should receive, as far as possible, 
only what is entirely true. 

• I have expressed myself more fully on this point in my review of Murray's Geography, 
reprinted in my '■'■Crusades," (Kreuzzugen ) Subsequent examples will illuFtrate the point. 



118 GEOGRAPHY. 

It is also often the case that geographers quite fail in an accurate 
understanding of their subject, and of the limits between it and the 
provinces of other sciences ; for the idea of geography is entirely dif- 
ferent from what it was in the time of Busching. It is in our time 
as if all the arts and sciences had appointed a rendezvous with geog- 
raphy for a great family feast on occasion of the first discovery of 
their relationship. Here gather astronomers, physicists, botanists, 
zoologists, mineralogists, philologists, statisticians — who can enumer- 
ate them all ? — bringing the fruits of labors too vast for description, 
to throw them all into one great common structure. They seek 
to gather together every thing which the wide earth ofiers, so that it 
may be seen and understood. 

It is accordingly of great importance to observe a proper propor- 
tion among all these, and to select judiciously ; so that the geography 
shall not come out a hydrology, zoology, nor mineralogy ; so that in 
general no department shall exceed its proper limits. That many 
fail in this respect is shown, for instance, by V. Hoffmann's geogi-aph- 
ical writings. In his work " for all classes," entitled " Germany and 
its Inhabitants,'^ {Deutschland und seine Bewohner^) the description 
of the Rhine and its tributaries occupies sixty-three pages ; and he 
mentions 481 streams in the valley of the Rhine, SS"? in that of the 
Elbe, 215 in that of the Oder, 48Y in the German part of that of the 
Danube. In his " Europe and its Inhabitants : a Manual and Read- 
ing-book for all Classes," {Europa und seine Bewohner : ein Hand-und 
Lesebiich fur alle Stande,) he gives a list of measured bights of land, 
and of uninteresting lengtlis and breadths, occupying no less than 
191 pages. In the same work, intended "for all classes," he gives a 
hundred pages of Latin names of animals to be found in Germany ; 
as, for instance, of 85 tape-worms, 54 snails — such as Helix holosericeOf 
H. Olivieri, leucozona, &c. In this way school geographies are filled 
up with Latin names of plants and animals which the boys have never 
seen and probably may never see ; and the author Hatters himself 
that lie puts forth an intelligent method of instruction and natural 
science, and good intuitional exercises. 

I wrote, in 1831, a manual of general geography; in which I en- 
deavored, as far as possible, to supply these deficiencies of ray prede- 
cessors. Future writers will, in turn, supply my own. 

At the same time, I published a " Description of the Earth's Sur- 
face : an Introduction to Geography^'' [Beschreibung der Erdober- 
fldche : eine Vorschule der Erdkunde*) for beginners ; and made use 
of it in giving instruction subsequent to that which I have already 

• This was extracted from the second part of the manual. 



GEOGRAPHY. J j 9 

described. In this I begin with some very simple lessons in mathe- 
matical geography, especially respecting the sphericity of the earth, 
the ideas of axis, pole, equator, parallel, latitude, longitude, tropics, 
polar circles, and zones. Then I briefly discuss maps, and show how 
these either represent the whole earth or parts of it ; and how the 
degrees are marked upon them. I have found it very useful here to 
compare some maps with a globe. I ask such questions as, for ex- 
ample, What country is that, which extends from the 9th to the 21st 
degree of longitude, and from the 36th almost to the 44th degree of 
latitude? Or, In what country do the meridian of 40° and the 
parallel of 37° north intersect ? And the pupils can put similar 
questions to each other. 

When I have proceeded from the city-plan of Erlangen as far as to 
the globe, and have connected with it the instruction above mentioned 
in mathematical geography, I take up ray " Description,''' together 
with the well-known and excellent maps of Sydow. In this work of 
mine I endeavored, as far as possible, only to deal with general sub- 
jects, and to consider together only things properly related. What I 
mean by this is sufficiently indicated by its opposite, as shown in the 
list of German mountains from Stein. I will, however, add an illus- 
tration. The descrij)tion of seas* mentions five principal ones ; and 
all others are given as dependents of these five. I consider in a sim- 
ilar manner the mountains, which are usually treated as if entirely 
isolated, and having no connection with each other. Such, for in 
stance, is the case with the mountains surrounding the Bohemian 
Elbe valley ; and the chain of mountains which, under various names, 
runs from Calabria to the Peloponnesus, and sends out a branch from 
Macedonia to the Black Sea. 

This principle, however, appears most clearly in the case of the 
rivers. Under the old arrangement, when the political divisions of 
the earth's surface were also used in classifying the descriptions of 
mountains, rivers, &c., the Rhine, for example, had to be mentioned 
in the descriptions of no less than twenty-two countries and small 
states ; and the student was left to put together for himself, as well as 
he could, a single picture of the river, out of these twenty-two scat- 
tered notices. And, again, if we are to consider as one, and in one 
description, not merely the whole Rhine, from its sources to the North 
Sea, but also all its tributaries — the Neckar, Main, and Moselle, and 
the smaller streams again which run into these, as the Kocher, Jaxt, 
Regnitz, &c., we should, in this case, mention the extent of the do- 
mains of kings and princes, but only the great domain of old King 

♦Not including inland lakes. 



120 GEOGRAPHY. 

Rhine himself.* My description names the most important towns on 
each bank of each river : there are comparatively few important 
places which do not stand on a river. 

This book is as brief as it could be made without making it unintel- 
ligible ; with the intention of not depriving teachers who should use 
it of the most attractive portions of what they might themselves add 
to its information, such as fuller details in the character of rivers, 
mountains, &c. 

The book, so far as it is to serve the purpose of instruction, is a 
description of maps ; and it was necessary that these should agree 
with it. Cut, as it appeared, this was not the case, as the maps usu- 
ally employed in the schools adhered to political divisions, while my 
" Description " neglected these and proceeded chiefly by mountains 
and rivers. It was very inconvenient, for instance, to follow out the 
Alps on the separate maps of Italy, Switzerland, Germany, <fec., and 
the more so as these maps were mostly drawn to different scales. 
This difficuhy is avoided by Sydow's maps. When the pupil has ob- 
tained, by means of these, a general view of the waters, mountains, 
and levels of the whole earth, he may then, for the first time, begp'n 
to use maps with political divisions. With the aid of this they may 
first give the boundaries of some particular country ;f and then 
mention which of the mountains, rivers, <fec., which they have been 
studying about, belong in whole or in part to that country. Thus, 
to France belong the whole of the Cevennes, the northern side of the 
Pyrennees, and the western of the Ardennes; of rivers, the Seine, 
Loire, &c., entirely, but the Rhone, Moselle, Maas, &c., only in part. 
Of the French cities which are important enough to be taken notice 
of by a beginner, most have already been mentioned in the previous 
study of the rivers ; as Paris, Rouen, Bordeaux, Lyons, in following 
the course of the Seine, Garonne, and Rhone.| 

Oceans, mountains, and rivers are elements of geography which go 
back to a period quite beyond human history. Cities are the most 
ancient monuments of men. Abraham saw Damascus, and lived near 
Hebron ; Jerusalem existed a hundred years before David ; Rome is 
in the third thousand of its years. Whatever revolutions happen, in 
the course of time, to nations — their abodes, and boundaries, and do- 
minions — cities outlive almost all changes ; only a comparatively 
small number of large ones — such as Babylon, Persepolis, Palmyra, 

* Schenkendorf calls the Rhine 

" An ancient monarch, nobly born." 

tThey should also give its length and breadth in degrees, using at the same time the globe, 
which has been used, as I mentioned, in the first beginning of mathematical geography. 

J The few other important cities, such as Marseilles, Toulon, &c., maybe added at this 
time. 



GEOGRAPHY. 121 

and Carthage — being quite given over to desolation. Our own coun- 
try exemplifies, within a smaller space and time, the same relation of 
cities to history. Mentz — first Roman, then the seat of archbishops 
and electors, then under the French dominion, and now Bavarian ; 
Treves and Cologne — earlier Roman towns than Mentz, afterward the 
seats of archbishops and spiritual electors, and now Prussian ; (fee. 

These ancient cities, then, which have survived the changes of time, 
and the seas, mountains, and rivers, which existed before man, are the 
permanent monuments with which it is of inestimable importance that 
pupils should become acquainted, for the sake of all their subsequent 
historical studies. They will thus readily understand the geography 
of the ancient historians. When they see the maps of ancient Gaul, 
Spain, (fee, they will at once recognize the Arar as the Saone, the 
Matrona as the Maine, the Ba^tis as the Guadalquivir, &e. ; Rotoma- 
gus as Rouen, Lugdunum as Lyons, Cresarea Augusta as Saragossa ; 
Abnoba Mons as the Black Forest; cfec. 

The geographical instruction thus far described is either immediately 
concerned with actual intuition by the senses or is closel}' connected 
with it. In this way the pupils have gained a knowledge of the seas, 
mountains, plains, rivers, and lakes, and the most important countries, 
and their boundaries, mountains, rivers, and cities. It is now time to 
give them a brief and clear description of the various races of men, 
languages, religions, and forms of government. 

After all this, there remains but little to say of the description of 
particular countries — that is, of what particularly characterizes each 
individual country and nation, and distinguishes it from others. Here 
is the first place where more detailed descriptions of the principal 
cities can properly be given ; pictures of them being used where 
practicable. But nothing should be protracted too far. 

In this manner, according to my view, should the foundation be 
laid for future geographical and historical studies. These, again, may 
be carried further and relieved, by the reading of good travels, news- 
papers, missionary reports, <fec. The pupil will now find his own 
knowledge so confirmed that he can proceed with no further aid, if he 
has good maps. He will also find himself sufficiently at home in 
any part of the earth to understand its ancient geography. 

But all this fixation and extension of geographical knowledge is 
chiefly gained by means of books and maps. It is only in the first 
commencement of it that we make use of any immediate knowledge 
of a very small part of the earth's surface — namely, of the pupil's 
place of abode, and the vicinity of it. 



122 GEOGRAPHY. • 

It may be asked whether then T have wholly given up my earlier 
views, above described, on the method of instructing in geography ? 
By no means. I only convinced myself, as I have shown, that the 
practice of draughting the neighborhood of home, with which that 
method begins, was not proper for beginners. Older scholars, who 
have gained a knowledge of drawing, may, however, practice it with 
advantage. But this prosaic method, as I may call it, of observing 
and delineating, should always have a poetic side; it should be made 
useful in instructing the pupil to draw landscape from nature, and es- 
pecially to gain facility in sketching.* If travels in Germany and in 
such other countries as are most beloved by and interesting to us Ger- 
mans are the best preparatory school for understanding all the coun- 
tries and people of the earth, the young must be made ready for these 
travels by the acquisition of such knowledge and accomplishments as 
will be of most service in them. But landscape drawing and archi- 
tectural drawing occupy an important place among these.f 

An adult person, desiring to know what further knowledge and ac- 
complishments are useful to those who travel, would ascertain to the 
best advantage from reading the travels of distinguished writers, like 
Goethe, Humboldt, &c. The acquirements of these men are shown 
by what they accomplished. 

Here I pause. Having thus endeavored to trace the course of 
geographical study from its very first rudiments, I refer, for the ulti- 
mate aims of geographical study, to what I have extracted from my 
dialogue on geography, already given. 

* I have given my views more at large on the relation between landscape painting and map 
drawing in the first part of my Miscellaneous Writings, p. 29. 

t Unfortunately I am no draughtsman. In order in some measure to supply this deficiency, 
I used, while among the Silesian mountains, to make out from elevated points a sort of pan- 
oramas, on which I entered, with the aid of a compass, the names of mountains, towns, &c., 
in their proper directions, putting the furthest further and the nearest nearer from my own 
position in the center of the paper. These panoramas frequently proved each other's cor- 
rectness. If, for instance, I had laid down Mount B. south-east from Mount A., then, in 
drawing from Mount B., Mount A. would be north-west of it. 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

[Translated from Rautner's ^^History of Pedagogy," for the American Journal of EducatKm.] 



INTRODUCTION, 

I PRESENT here materials both new and old. I printed some essays 
on instruction in natural science as early as 1819 and 1822, in the 
first and second volumes of my ^^Miscellaneous Works,''^ ( Vermischten 
Schriften ;) and in 1823 I wrote a programme " On Instruction in 
Natural Science in Schools!" 

Although, during an uninterrupted course of teaching since 1823, 
I have made new experiments, and have had occasion here and there 
to seek out and to open new paths, yet my original views on the sub- 
ject have not substantially changed. 

Even during the period of my own studies, I felt a repugnance to 
the usual course of this instruction. From 1805 to 1808, I heard 
lectures on mineralogy in Freiberg, from my never-to-be-forgotten 
teacher, Werner. His school has scarcely its parallel ; pupils came to 
Freiberg from all parts of Europe, and even from Asia and America. 
And from that school what men have proceeded — Alexander von 
Humboldt, Steffens, Novalis, Schubert, Weiss, Mohs, and how many 
more!* Werner's oral delivery was a model of lucidity and order; 
and his descriptions of mineralogical species left nothing to be desired. 
But when he had described perhaps ten species, and had scarcely a 
quarter of an hour left, he would have the cases which contained these 
ten groups opened on the table before us. It was a very torture of 
Tantalus, to gaze with straining eyes at these, endeavoring in so short 
a time to obtain a distinct impression of the appearance of so many 
different species. To do this, indeed, was impossible, even for the 
most ardent and attentive learner ; and they would have gained, not 
an actual knowledge of minerals, but only fragments of it, had Frei- 
berg afforded no other means of acquiring it. But traders in miner- 
als came there from the most distant countries, and of them the 
students, amongst whom some were usually quite rich, purchased. 
Every one had a larger or smaller collection of minerals ; and they 
showed their treasures to each other, and talked about them, and 

' While I was in Freiberg I ate at a boarding-club, which consisted, besides us Germans, of 
a Swiss, a Frenchman, a Roman, a Spaniard, aud three Russians, one from Nertchinsk, which 
is near the Chinese boundary-line. 



124 INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

studied them together. But this was not enough. After, therefore, I 
had attended the lectures twice, I engaged private lessons from Wer- 
ner, merely for the sake of going through his excellent collection un- 
der his direction. When, in 1811,1 was appointed professor of min- 
eralogy at Breslau, I saw that, under the circumstances of that situa- 
tion, I must pursue a different course from Werner's, and must pro- 
ceed as much as possible by the way of intuition, and keep the oral 
part of my instruction in the background, in order that my pupils 
might gain some actual mineralogical knowledge. For Breslau of- 
fered none of the outside assistance which was accessible at Freiberg ; 
the academical collection being the only one from which the students 
could gather any information. 

I shall hereafter describe the method to which I resorted. Besides 
the students, I had other hearers also. I offered to the rector of the 
Bi-eslau Gymnasium to instruct any of his scholars who might have a 
special taste for mineralogy, and had the pleasure of always having 
some gymnasiasts under my teaching during ray eight years' stay 
there; and my experience in Gottingen was similar. 

I was transferred, in 1819, from Breslau to Halle, where I taught 
on the same plan, and also gave the mining pupils practical lessons, 
in the neighborhood, in the mode of examining mountains. In 1823 
I left Halle and went to Nuremberg. Here, as instructor in a private 
school, I had an opportunity of instructing boys of from ten to four- 
teen in mineralogy, and had the use of a good collection for the pur- 
pose. I also endeavored to make my pupils acquainted with the 
vegetable kingdom, by the method which I shall hereafter describe. 

I received my present appointment to the professorship of natural 
history and mineralogy at the University of Erlangen in 1827. 
Here I taught mineralogy to the gymnasiasts in the same manner 
which I had previously made use of; but to the students in a some- 
what different one. Instruction in general natural history was a some- 
what novel employment for me. It was evident that in this depart- 
ment I could not, as in mineralogy, begin with the observation of 
nature herself. How could this be done, for instance, in mathematical 
and physical geography ? It was a matter of course that, as things 
then were, oral instruction must be the principal resource, notwith- 
standing that very many points might be made as clear as possible to 
the senses by means of exhibiting natural objects, pictures, maps, 
models, &c. 

So much I have said by way of preface, to give the reader a gen- 
eral view of the course which I pursued in learning and teaching 
natural history ; and to make it properly clear that mineralogy was 
TOY chief object. 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 125 

I, DIFFICULTIES. 

The teacher of natural science might well turn dizzy when he con- 
siders the vast compass of his subject, and the mental power and ex- 
ertion which they demand. 

Their extent is increasing daily. Where Hipparchus and Ptolemy 
saw 1,022 stars, Lalande and Bessel saw 50,000; where the Greeks 
and Romans knew 1,500 species of plants, Stendel's '■'■ Nomenclator 
Botanicus '''' for 1821 gave 39,684, and its second edition, in 1841, 
no less than Y8,005, without reckoning the cryptogamia. Thus the 
number of botanical species has nearly doubled itself within twenty 
years. In zoology there has been a similar increase. The twelfth 
edition of Linna?us' " System " included about 6,000 animals, while 
Rudolf Wagner, in 1834, enumerated about 78,000. The greatest 
German mineralogist, Werner, who died thirty years ago, in 1837, 
would not now know the names of more than one-third of the spe- 
cies of minerals now recognized. 

Tn physics and chemistry there has been a similar growth. This 
can not be so well expressed by numbers ; but almost any one can 
recall many of their doctrines, of which nothing was known a hun- 
dred years since. 

The teacher, in casting his eye over this broad ocean of knowledge, 
might well desjniir of being able to fix upon a beginning, a path to 
pursue, and an object to aim at, for his pupils. And this despair 
might well increase, on considering how far scientific training is car- 
ried in these various sciences, and what demands are made both up- 
on pupil and teacher. In most branches of natural science — includ,- 
ing the higlier ones — mathematics holds the scepter ; and to him 
who is not master of that study the gates of their paradise seem to 
be entirely closed. 

II. OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL SCIENCE IN THE GYMNASIUM ANSWERED. 

But these difficulties in the nature of the study are not all. Still 
others, raised by the adversaries of natural science, arise against its 
pursuit in the gymnasium ; and of these we shall now speak. 

Unless, say these adversaries, you propose to claim, with Jacotot, 
that we ought to be able to teach what we do not understand, you 
must admit that instruction in natural science must be given up, for 
the reason that there are no teachers who understand it. We an- 
swer, It is not to be denied that heretofore the incapacity in tliis de- 
partment of many teachers has been plain enough. Without any 
knowledge of minerals, plants, or animals, they all lectured to the 
boys out of Raflfs or Funke's natural history, made them commit to 
memory the descriptions of animals, &C.,, and then questioned them 
on them. But men always generally escape from such errors as this. 



126 INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

Our hopes of obtaining competent teachers of this department are in- 
creasing, because attention has of late been earnestly devoted to the 
purpose, and because there have been established in the universities, 
for those who devote themselves to mathematics and natural science, 
seminaries, corresponding to the philological seminaries.* 

But, rejoin our opponents, even supposing that teachers of natural 
sciences have been trained thus, what good can they do as long as 
the gymnasia are destitute of the necessary means of instruction ? 
Have you any expectation that, in times so troubled as the present, 
and when demands are made upon the income of the state from so 
many quarters, collections in natural history, physics, &c., will be 
given to our gymnasia ? Let us be rejoiced if our universities are 
furnished with all these means of instruction. 

Such objections as these are based upon the mistaken idea that all 
instruction in natural science is superficial unless it is carried to the 
greatest extent. For the apparatus of instruction must be richer, bet- 
ter, and more costly, in proportion to this extent. 

But no such scope in this department is proper for the gymnasia ; 
and that very scantiness of apparatus, of which so much complaint is 
made, would actually sometimes be a benefit, by constraining teach- 
ers to moderation in pursuing these studies. 

To give an example : — The course in botany could be abundantly 
furnished for all necessary purposes from the flora of each neighbor- 
hood. No forcing-house, not an exotic plant, would be requisite in 
addition. Nor is any place destitute of gardens sufficient to enable 
the scholars to observe the growth of plants, from their first sprouting 
to the blossom and fruit ; a study worth more than a knowledge ever 
60 thorough of the '■'■ Philosophia Bolanica.'''' And, in like manner, 
every place has its fauna, in its domestic animals, first, and in others. 
It is most difficult to furnish the needed materials for mineralogy ; as, 
in this study, crystals are required. But even here good specimens 
can be obtained, with very small means, of the species which occur 
most frequently, such as quartz, iron }>yrites, lead ore, &c.f There 
may often be found, again, in chemical laboratories, apothecaries' 
shops, &c., very fine crystals, costing very little, as of alum, &c. 
Lastly, many gymnasia might obtain assistance from the universities, by 
gifts of duplicates, &c., from the overplus of the collections of the latter. 
From the duplicates at Breslau, I furnished small collections, at a 
very moderate price, to thirteen educational institutions. 

But these considerations would not comfort the opponents of nat- 

* Such a one was eBtahlished at Bonn, in 1825; a second, in 1835, at Konigsberg; and a 
■' Seminary for Real Teaciiers," at Tubingen, in 183S. 
t Particularly if email specimens are used. 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 127 

ural sciences in the gymnasia ; they would now come out with their 
real meaning — the reason of their reasons. The business of the gym- 
nasia, they say, is properly classical education, by and for the classic 
authors. This requires so exclusive a devotion of all the time and 
powers of the student, that none can remain over for instruction in 
natural science. Education should not give the scholar superficially 
universal learning; it is better for him to learn one thing well than 
a heterogeneous mixture of many things badly. 

This view I have already controverted in my account of Sturm 
and his gymnasium. This teacher, with the utmost professional skill, 
was led astray by the idea of our opponents. He taught Latin, and 
almost Latin only. Greek was next; and no instruction whatever 
was given in Hebrew, German, modern languages, mathematics, his- 
tory, geography, natural science, or drawing. The simplification can 
not be pushed further, nor better managed ; and yet Sturm complains 
of the small results obtained. 

One thing well is better than many ill ; but the accent should be 
laid on "ill," not on "many." In the gymnasia, many things can 
be taught with great success, if it is done in the right way, at the 
right time, and in the right proportions. And, on the other hand, 
a man may limit himself to one thing, and teach that ill ; as, 
for instance, if he teaches Latin only, and that with the design 
of enabling his pupils to speak and write it as if it were their mother- 
tongue. 

The universities, say our opponents again, should afibrd the neces- 
sary means for those who desire to become acquainted with natural 
science. Doubtless they should, but not for elementary scholars in 
that study. They furnish the means for the higher philological stud- 
ies, but do not undertake to teach beginners mensa and amo. 

It is the more proper that the gymnasia should instruct in the ele- 
ments of natural science, because boys are much better adapted to 
those studies than youths or men. How easily and firmly do recol- 
lections of plants, animals, and minerals impress themselves upon the 
mind in our earlier years ; and how strongly is a child inclined to 
make himself acquainted and familiar with every thing which sur- 
rounds him ! But with the elements of Latin it is wholly different. 
These have no excitement for the boys. And for the very reason 
that the material world is so stimulating to him, and occupies him so 
much, is it so hard for him to busy himself exclusively with the more 
intellectual elements of language. Let them now be compelled in 
that direction which is opposed to the tendencies of their child's na- 
tures. Will not such a measure result in their becoming unnaturally 
warped in mind, and ultimately insensible to all the beauty of the 



128 INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

heavens and the earth — and to all the beauty of the classics, too? 
For to feel the latter there needs a training of eye and ear to ele- 
vated enjoyment. 

I have mentioned that I instructed gymnasium pupils in mineral- 
ogy in Breslau and Erlangen. These usually attended at 11 A. M., 
at the end of their morning-lessons. It may be imagined that they 
came so weary as to be disinclined to attend. Very far from it ; they 
came punctually, and of their own free "v^ill. They took hold of the 
study with all their hearts ; and indeed showed in most cases far 
more disposition to like it, and clear comprehension of it, than many 
older than they. It was here that I learned how well the rudiments 
of natural science are adapted to boys, and that, when they have been 
working hard at their studies in language, it is a proper and natural 
impulse which leads them to refresh and recreate themselves by study- 
ing crystals and flowers. 

A writer on natural science has required that each pupil should, at 
least, bring with him to the university a few thousand names in natu- 
ral science — expressions being by this, of course, intended for correct 
ideas in natural objects. Without pretending to fix on any precise 
number, this at least is certain, that, to students possessed of such a 
supply, lectures could be delivered of a kind very different from those 
which must now be delivered — lectures which would deal with gener- 
alized views, and would treat profoundly of their subjects. The gym- 
nasia must bear the blame of the fact that the universities have to 
instruct in the very A B C of natural science. If it be asked in 
what classes of the gymnasium (including the Latin schools) instruc- 
tion in the natural sciences should be given, I reply, In the lower 
and lowest; for experience has shown me that the younger boys are 
capable of retaining ideas of minerals, plants, and animals as well asj 
and usually even better, than youths.* And these beginners in Lat- 
in, whose school-life is all effort and labor, need something in the na- 
ture of refreshment more than any other scholars. It is not until 
they comprehend the classic authors that they find a pleasure in their 
studies in language. 

But teachers in languages are apprehensive that adequate instruc- 
tion in natural science will render their boys averse to the former study, 
not to mention the time that would be occupied. Experience has, 
however, convinced me of the opposite. Those pupils who distin- 
guished themselves in my mineralogical classes were also among the 
foremost in the gymnasium. 

* The case is different with those departments of natural science which require mathemst- 
V,al knowledge, and do not so much depend upon the intuition of the senses. These— mathe- 
mal'cal geography, for instance — should only be taught in the higher classes. 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 129 

The fear tliat the study of natural science will render the pupils 
averse to that of languages can have no substantial basis, except 
when it is made a mere superficial diversion, instead of a serious and 
thorough study. In this latter case it does not seek merely an unin- 
telligent communion of the senses with the material world, but the 
development of words, as an intellectual blood, from silent examina- 
tion ; an adequate translation of intuition into words. In this way 
it has the greatest intiuence upon thorough cultivation in the mother- 
tongue ; a cultivation which proceeds from things themselves. And, 
as the poet says, the mother language is the mother of languages ; 
what is useful for the former is indirectly favorable to the acquisition 
of the others. 

I have even seen cases where the study of natural science first 
awoke a real liking and capacity for language. Things which the 
beginner at first sees corporeally, singly, which it is difficult for him 
to comprehend and to survey to his satisfaction, have afterward, un- 
der the dominion of the senses and the understanding, and by means 
of language, become arranged together, connected, describable, in 
short thoroughly understood. One name describes innumerable in- 
dividual substances; and the natural philosopher sets down upon a 
few pages, briefly and clearly, the result of many years' investigations. 
The student feels doubly the magic power of words for having first 
felt the resisting power of the material world ; and iie experiences a 
pleasure as if, after a long and wearisome journey on foot, he should 
suddenly receive wings, and ascend easjiy and swiftly into the bights 
of the air, looking down upon the long, weary way over which he had 
before been traveling. 

But the thorough mastery of one subject of study trains the stu- 
dent to thoroughness in others, even the most ditierent. If he has 
acquired, by his studies in natural science, a clear, definite, and sure 
view and comprehension of the creation, and a corresponding power 
of expression, he will afterward acquire similar clear and definite 
conceptions as to language, and will learn to speak and write clearly 
and definitely on whatever subject he understands. 

The influence of natural science will be especially valuable upon 
the study of history. The former pursuit requires, unconditionally 
humble and self-denying views of the material world, and treats as 
absurd that silly or proud obstinacy which would lay down narrow- 
limitations, and then confine nature within them ; and thus it edu- 
cates the mind to the habit of forming clear and undistorted views of 
things. And a mind thus trained becomes capable of ready and cor- 
rect views of men and human life. It can recognize, in minerals and 
plants, and in men also, a fixed and unvarying plan ; and all disfigure- 



130 INSTRtCTI&IV IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

raents or distortions, for the sake of aiding any superficial theories, 
will be painful to it. 

It is common, in gymnasia, to give only one, or at most two, 
hours' recitation a week to studies not reckoned as important as those 
we have been discussing — as geography, for instance ; and this plan is 
often carried through three or four years, in successive classes. This, 
it seems to me, is an unfortunate method. It occasions those studies 
to be esteemed mere side-studies, of which a less thorough knowledge 
will serve. The pupil is sure to see this, and governs himself accord- 
ingly. If he receives, for instance, twelve hours' instruction a week in 
Latin and but two in geography, he not only estimates that the val- 
ue of Latin is to that of geography as twelve to two, but he takes 
less pains in studying his geography, because his teacher is less 
strict in his requirements in it. And his examination and testimo- 
nials will only confirm his views on this point. But no pupil should 
esteem any thing which is taught him a secondary study. 

Instead, therefore, of creeping along in this spiritless manner 
through several classes, at the rate of one or two hours a week, it 
would be much better to devote as much as four hours a week to the 
study during a year, and then to stop. Natural science, for instance, 
might be studied for one year at four hours a week, and geography 
in its place the next year ; and so on. This plan would give the pu- 
pils a liking for the study, as they would feel that it had some life in 
it ; whereas, the other mode WQuld render it tedious and long pro- 
tracted, and would afibrd them no pleasure at all, and least of all 
that of thorough learning and investigation. 

If the boys have, in the under classes, got the ideas of minerals and 
plants well impressed on their minds, there need be no fear that they 
will forget them. These ideas may perhaps pass a little out of fresh 
remembrance ; but, in the second grade of the study, at the univers- 
ity, they will soon return again. The student will not then have to 
work up his lessons with a botanical hand-book, by means of labori- 
ous comparison of descriptions ; he will at once know that this flower 
is a daisy and that a dandelion, because he has always known it from 
a boy. He will not have to learn what the flower is, but only its 
Latin scientific name ; and thus he can bring to the more comprehen- 
sive and profound investigation of the vegetable world eyes and 
(Understanding already trained. 

ni. EXTENT OF ACaUIREMENT. 

I allude once more to the perplexity and doubts which, in view of 
the extent and depth of the natural sciences, must annoy the teacher 
who does not know how and where to begin, toward what end to 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 13J 

look, and what way to pursue. I have already in part shown how 
these difficulties may be overcome. 

But the question to answer here is, whether knowledge of nature, 
and pleasure in it, are the exclusive privilege of the learned by pro- 
fession ; and, further, of that portion of them who have reached the 
highest point of learning ? Are there not degrees in knowledge^, and 
can not even the beginner find pleasure in the truth of that degree 
to which he has attained, if it be really truth ? The teacher need not 
trouble himself about the Y8,000 species of plants, nor the difficulty 
of classing the gramineous and umbelliferous plants. Let him take 
pleasure in his success, if his pupils have become acquainted with a 
few hundred characteristic plants, and have studied closely the growth 
of a few of them from their first sprouting to the ripening of their seeds. 

Similar principles are true in the other departments of natural his- 
tory. Most of my scholars in mineralogy have been able to devote 
to it but one half-year. My task was, to determine what they could 
learn within this time — not half-way and dimlj% but wholly, clearly, 
and surely ; and thus I dared not fix my limit at too great a distance. 
Where I did fix it will hereafter appear. At present I vvill only say 
that my best pupils acquired a satisfactory acquaintance with the most 
important, simple, and clear species of minerals,* and a clear percep- 
tion, derived from actual observation, of the consistent laws which 
prevail throughout them. It is a consideration which may console 
the teacher of natural science, for the low degree ot knowledge 
reached by his pupils, that even the*greatest masters, who have at- 
tained to the highest point of learning, have confessed, with ingenu- 
ous humility, how much was that of which they were ignoranl.f 

IV. BEGINNING. 

" We have but little solicitude," I think I hear some say, " for the 
more or less of knowledge of nature which our pupils shall attain, 
but much about our own ignorance where and how to begin instruct- 
ing in it. For we are convinced that eminent men have fallen into 
error on this point." 

The difficulty of adopting the right mode of beginning occurred to 
me when, twenty-five years ago, I undertook to give practical instrue- 
tion in studying mountainous countries to the Prussian mining pupils ; 
and induced me to write the following considerations upon the con*- 
mencement of geognostic studies. 

I will now state the method which, in my opinion, the student 
should follow. 



• Such as fluor spar, lead glance, iron pyrites, garnet, &c. 

t This is an expression which has a very different meaning in the mouth of the master and 
in that of the scholar. 



132 INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

He should first examine, in all directions, the neighborhood of his 
residence, and should make himself so thoroughly acquainted with it 
that he can call it up before his mind whenever he chooses. Such an 
acquaintance is the result of the unconscious and fresh pleasure which 
youth, joyful and free from scientific anxieties, will find for itself in 
such an examination, obtaining in this artless way a simple general 
imprfes'sion of the vicinity, not forced upon him artificially by a teacher. 
He is not teased, while he is rejoicing in the blue heavens and the 
rapid motions of the clouds, in the oak woods and flowery meadows, 
where the butterflies play, by a professor with a kyanometer, to 
measure the blue of the sky with, nor by a recommendation not to 
stare into the woods, but rather to ascertain whether the oaks are 
Quercus rohur or Quercus pedunculata ; or, not to look at the flowers 
in the meadow all at once, as if they were a yellow carpet, but to take 
his Linnoeus and determine the species of this ranunculus. No ento- 
mologist is setting him to chase butterflies and impale them. Nei- 
ther is the youth, when inspired to devotion by the snowy Alps, 
glittering in moonlight, like so many spiritual, silvery forms of 
giants, annoyed by a geologist talking to him of granite, gneiss, 
and limestone, or of the junction and inclination of strata. The 
young enjoy the heavens and the earth as a susceptible painter or 
an ingenuous poet does. In this first paradisaic pleasure is planted 
the seed of the perception of an intellectual world, whose secrets will 
not be fully ascertained and understood even after the longest and 
most active life of scientific eff'ort. But most teachers, by the dis- 
persion of these simple impressions of nature, forcibly destroy these 
earliest pleasures of children, the brightness of the imaginary world 
which they see. Even the great Pestalozzi falls into an error on this 
point, when he says that " It is not in the woods or meadows that the 
child should be put, to become acquainted with trees and plants. 
They do not there stand in the order best calculated to display the 
characters of the diSerent families, <fec." That is, we ought to take the 
child into a botanic garden, arranged on the Linnaean system, so that 
he may study plants in the order of their species. To me this seems 
like saying that the child ought not to hear a symphony, because that 
would be a mere chaos of sounds to him ; he should rather have 
played to him, first, the first violin part, then the second, then the 
parts for the bass viols, the flutes, clarionets, trumpets, &c. It is true 
that in this way he would hear the separate parts, but not the bond 
of thought which makes them a symphony. Jahn was much more 
judicious in his gymnastic walks, when he said, not " we are going 
botanizing, geologizing, or entomologizing," but merely, " we are go- 
ing to walk." How much more naturally do our youth, when the 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. I33 

bird-of-passage instinct seizes them at the university, wander through 
the father-land and rejoice in its grandeur, and lay it deeply to heart, 
without any idea of a premature, and painful, and usually repulsive 
studying of any particular subject. I hate this analyzing and lifeless 
elementarizing of the first youthful impressions of nature — this foolish, 
superficial, heartless, frivolous directing of the understanding prema- 
turely out of its natural path — which is so sure to chill the youthful 
heart and render it old before its time. The utmost attainments of a 
mind thus trained must be— unless aided by remarkable natural qual- 
ities — to observe with the bodily eye ; to use the reason, but not with 
pleasure ; to derive mere lifeless ideas from creation ; and to repre- 
sent the objects thus conceived in equally lifeless descriptions, like the 
ghastly wax figures which afford a repulsive imitation of living men. 

There is, however, a mode of learning intelligently, which is not 
chilling, but thoroughly genial and appropriate. But, it should be 
observed, the mode of instruction just described has a diametrical op- 
posite in that whose advocates despise the adult reason, and would 
constrain themselves to remain children always — to feel, and only to 
feel. Among these advocates are prominent the numerous disgusting, 
pitiful poetasters of our time, who undertake to deal with nature in 
so remarkably childlike a manner. Their false simplicity and inno- 
cence is to real childlike innocence what a French actress, who plays 
the smart chambermaid, is to a truly noble young damsel. He who 
feels himself a man should endeavor in manly wise to understand and 
represent nature with as deep poetic feeling, and as gigantic under- 
standing, as that which Shakspeare used in delineating men and life. 
But I return to my subject. 

If the first njental growth of the young is watched over in holy 
quiet, the results of the mode of training which I recommend, how 
prosaic soever they may appear, will not be prosaic. The recollection 
of youthful devotional premonitions will become a hope of realizing 
thejn, and will enliven, strengthen, 'and inspire every effort. After 
you have enjoyed the unmingled, complete, rich pleasure of a full 
symphony, you willingly undertake the wearisome labor of becoming 
familiar with each part of it; for each is to you not a dead thing, 
but a living portion of the whole symphony, whose collective remem- 
brance lives in your soul. And if now, knowing all the separate 
parts, you hear the symphony again, you hear with pleasure both 
each separate part and the united sound of all ; and your apprehen- 
sion of the whole symphony, previously simple and obscure, develops 
and becomes clear. 

In a similar manner the learner proceeds, from passively offering 
himself to receive impressions, from an artless susceptibility to the 



J 34 INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

collective impression produced by the locality examined, to an active 
effort to distinguish this impression into its component parts. The 
great compound picture of the district about him divides into innumer- 
{»ble little ones, of towns, men, animals, trees, flowers, and in like man- 
ner do the mountains — for instance, their minerals, and their structure. 
What has been said of the method of geognostic study, both of its 
rudiments and of its ultimate purpose, is applicable, as we shall see, 
to other branches of natural science. 



V. SCIENCE AND ART. 



"As the susceptible painter, the ingenuous poet, rejoice in the 
heavens and the earth, so does the youthful heart." And, I may add, 
the future geognosist. But, it will be asked, does this laborious and 
prosaic workman proceed from the same initial point of education as 
the passionate and delicate painter ? I answer, decidedly, Yes ; and, 
I add, other departments of art begin, in like manner, co-incidently 
with other departments of science. If a boy loves flowers, he may 
become equally a botanist or a flower-painter. The celebrated painter 
of animals, Paul Potter, the author of " Beynard the Fox^^ as well 
as the great zoologist, Cuvier, all, as boys, took delight in animals, 
and had an eye susceptible to them. A liking for beautiful mathe- 
matical bodies may characterize a future mineralogist, or mathe- 
matician, or architect. Susceptibility to colors indicates a future 
painter or a future optician ; and an ear for music, either a musician 
or an acousticist. Nor do the different roads of the artists and natu- 
ralists, who proceed from the ^ame point, ever become entirely sepa- 
rate. Michael Angelo was a great anatomist ; Durer wrote on per- 
spective, and on the relations of the human body; Otto Philip Runge 
constructed a theory of colors. Goethe sang of flowers, and wrote 
his valuable " Metamorphoses of Plants ; " he had ai^ eye seldom 
equaled for the beauty of mountains, and he both observed and de- 
scribed them in a masterly manner, according to their geognostic 
character. A man who is endowed with susceptibility to beauty, and 
the artist's power of representation, and also with clear and energetic 
thought, will produce scientific works containing beauty, and artistic 
woiks of profound thought. It is not only true that we find united, 
in extraordinary men, great capacity both for science and art, and 
that the first rudiments of scientific and artistic training are frequently 
the same, but we see that many arts need the aid of science, and 
many sciences of the arts. The architect must understand mechanics ; 
the painter, perspective, anatomy, and the chemistry of colors : botany 
and zoology require good pictures of plants and animals ; and mineral- 
ogy, clear and accurate drawings of crystals. 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. I35 

Science seeks piincipally truth ; but art, beauty. While the 
botanist endeavors to establish as correctly and completely as possible 
the idea of the species Rose, the painter tries to present his ideal of a 
Hosa ccntifoUa ; and the poet leads us, through the gardens of poetry, 
to roses of unimaginable beauty. While the Greek sculptor carved 
the Lions of St. Mark, Cuvier gave us an excellent description of 
the king of beasts. From the school of Werner came scientific 
works on mineralogy and mining, and likewise the miners' songs of 
Novalis. 

I have lengthened this discussion, in order to bring out a peda- 
gogical rule to which I have already referred in speaking of teaching 
geognosy. It is, to have constant reference, not only at the begin- 
ning but throughout all the course of instruction in natural science, 
to the beauty of God's works; to cultivate the pupils' susceptibility to 
this beauty ; and to develop, along with the receptive faculty, how- 
ever directed, the power of representing as perfectly as possible the 
thing seen : so that, for example, the boys shall learn not only to ex- 
amine and recognize plants and crystals but to draw them. It is 
more necessary to refer to this, because the beauty of which I speak 
is so wholly indifferent to so many teachers. They make no en- 
deavor to learn whether their pupils take such pleasure in flowers, and 
examine them with the same penetrating attention that a flower- 
painter uses. They rather make their tyros analyze them, pull them 
to pieces, physically and mentallj' count their anthers and pistils, &c. 
Before the boys have even gained a thorough and familiar idea of the 
flower, they are made to endeavor to get an idea of its species in this 
destructive manner. 

Especial haste is used, in those departments of natural science which 
are based on mathematics, in proceeding from observation by the 
senses to abstract mathematical theory. It is no wonder that this is 
the case in our day, when atomistics and mechanics, in a mathemat- 
ical form, are every where forcing themselves forward, and where so 
many are seeking after mere bare truth only, without any reference 
at all to beauty. 

VI. MATHEMATICAL AND ELEMENTARY INBTBUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

Mathematics are the root and blood of a knowledge of the laws of 
nature and of art.* It reveals the laws of crystallization and of 
chemical unions ; the number of petals and of anthers ; the figure, size, 
and motions of the stars. It is the soul of the firmness of mighty 
cathedrals, of harmony in music; it gives the painter proportion and 

•" The form was in the archetype before it was in the work ; in the divine mind before it 
was in the creature." — Kepler, "Harmon. Mundi," I. 



136 INSTRUCTION IN NATl'RAL SCIENCE. 

grouping, and lives in the hexameters of Homer and the choral 
measures of the tragedians. 

But can we for such reasons, when instruction is required in music, 
drawing, (fee, answer, Yes ! we teach mathematics, and shall thus at 
least indirectly prepare the pupil for the studies which you wish ? 
By no means ; and as little would it serve where instruction in natural 
science is required. These considerations lead to the very important 
question of the relations between mathematical instruction and in- 
struction in drawing, music, natural science, <fec. On this point there 
are two opposite opinions ; one of which would place mathematics at 
the beginning of the courses, and the other at the end. 

In support of the former of these doctrines, it may be said, " If we 
grant that mathematics form the theory of laws of nature and art, 
what could be more appropriate than to begin with it ? When the 
scholars have gained a thorough acquaintance with pure mathematics, 
they thus become capable of easily mastering any natural science, or 
of acquiring knowledge and skill in the arts. In the pure mathe- 
matics is the point for setting the lever which will move the world ; 
it is the center from which light radiates to innumerable points on 
the circumference — to innumerable sciences and arts. Should the 
teacher rather choose to select from their multitude one point or a few, 
and thence seek to reach the center? " 
This view is plausible, but untenable. 

The history of the arts and sciences is opposed to the idea of be- 
ginning with instruction in pure mathematics. The course of devel- 
opment of the human race has not confirmed its propriety, either. 
The fact was not that minds of a purely speculative character, oper- 
ating entirely within themselves, developed pure mathematical truth, 
which others afterward applied to nature and art. In this sense, 
there have been almost no applied mathematics. The truth is, that 
a gradual and deliberate apprehension of purely mathematical rela- 
tions has developed in such departments as music, surveying, arch- 
itecture, drawing, astronomy, geology, &c.,* from a beginning of purely 
material conceptions, yet guided by the principles of mathematics, 
hidden within them as a human instinct. From this heterogeneous 
world of phenomena its common elementary spirit, the spirit of pure 
mathematics, arose subsequently. This succession of the sciences can 
not be too carefully remembered, for every scholar has to go through 
one more or less similar. 

It is also a great error to believe that a person thoroughly grounded 

* How completely new is the world of beautiful inter-relatej mathematical bodies which 
has arisen from the investigations into natural crystals, and how utterly were the great early 
niathematieians without an a priori knowledge of it I 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 237 

in pure mathematics is thus fully prepared for all the arts and 
sciences which are based on mathematics — that he can juggle with 
them by means of his formulas. Is it supposed that one who has 
learned general bass — the mathematical basis of music — has by that 
means trained his feelings and his earl Does knowledge of per- 
spective make a painter; or of metrics, a poet? Is one who knows 
how to calculate a crystal a mineralogist ? 

On the contrary, the reason, during those years when it is dormant, 
but the senses are active and hungry, is powerfully stimulated by pure 
mathematics, and developed at the expense of the senses. The boy, 
under an unnatural mental excitement, and thrown into this wholly 
subjective train of thought — this activity of the reason exclusively 
within itself — loses his quiet, peaceful, and natural bodily sensitive- 
ness to the material creation. He will even, in time, lose the humility 
with which he sought after the laws of God's world, with self-sacri- 
fice and sincere industry, and with which he felt a pious joy in dis- 
covering them; and he imperceptibly becomes a scientific egoist, hav- 
ing no feeling for faith in any thing except in his own mind and 
mental labor; and who, even if he discovers a natural law, can only 
rejoice in it as in the child of his own intellect — as if he were a law- 
giver to the creation. I am not exaggerating. Only consider any 
one of many trained naturalists, who have been educated in this way, 
whether they are not such as I have said. 

If, now, we would preserve a natural and proper susceptibility to 
nature in our pupils — if we would protect them against such a prema- 
ture and bald forcing of the growth of the understanding — we must 
permit them to begin their studies with the natural and easy observa- 
tion and practice of youth ; and gradually bring them forward from 
this to a properly pure mathematical mode of investigating and 
training. 

Mathematical instruction, too early put in the place of physical ob- 
servation of nature, is so far from compensating for it that it is in- 
jurious to it. Bacon's observation is here eminently in point : " Mathe- 
matics should terminate the study of natural philosophy ; it should 
not introduce or create it."* 

Vn. INSTRUCTION IN MINERALOGY. 

With Werner opened a new era not only in the science of miner- 
alogy but also in the method of instructing it. Before him, scientific 
mineralogy was scarcely known ; or the thorough knowledge, descrip- 
tion, or classification of minerals. Naturalists were satisfied with un- 



* What has here been said will be illustrated by subsequent examples. Further details will 
Oc f>iund in the cliapter on Geometry. 



138 INSTRUCnON IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

derstanding and teaching such of their peculiarities as were most ob- 
vious. Gold, they said, is yellow, bright, and heavy. But these same 
terms might be used to describe copper pyrites, or iron pyrites — as in 
Messing. Werner perceived how defective were such descriptions ; 
and how far they were from being sufficient to describe the peculiari- 
ties of a mineral or a species — and still more to distinguish with en- 
tire certainty one mineral, or one species, from another.* He believed 
that not merely this or that prominent characteristic of a mineral, but 
all of its characteristics, the most obvious and the most recondite 
alike, should be understood and expressed. It was in this belief that 
he wrote his '"'' Theory of External CharacierisiicsJ'' {Lehre von den Aus- 
sern Kennzeichen.) \ What he here aimed at was, in fact, an ex- 
liaustive statement of the sensible characteristics of minerals ; though 
all that he stated himself to seek was the best, fittest, and most inva- 
riable expressions for their characters, their species, and their grades. 
The motto of his book was " Be not facile in choice of words ; in or- 
der that you may agree in things." And he arranged these charac- 
teristics in a definite and well-adjusted order. 

In describing all the peculiarities of a mineral, he paid all his at- 
tention to the order, clear comprehension, and expression of its exter- 
nal characteristics. He endeavored to set forth in words the whole 
of the peculiarities of the mineral, in the most correct manner, so 
that his description should fully state the elements of the whole im- 
pression made by the mineral upon the senses. 

In a similar manner he described a species of minerals ; but with 
this diflference, that, whereas the single stone has one definite color, 
one definite mode of crystallization, &c., the species to which it be- 
longs usually includes a variety of related colors and crystals, which 
must be described. 

Not to enlarge upon the brief general theory of classification with 
which Werner began, he commenced his mineralogical lectures proper 
with instruction in the external marks. This was followed by a de- 
scription of the species closely connected with it, and by a rapid 
exhibition of the groups described. His oral lecture, which was of 
great value in itself, was the prominent feature ; and the actual display 
of the groups of minerals was quite subordinate. 

" Words are good," says Goethe, " but not best." This was true 
in the present case. I have already mentioned how we strove in vain 
not to be confined to a mere description of the minerals, but to ob- 

* It is this defectiveness in descriptions which leaves us so often at a loss to know what 
mineral the early writers— Pliny, for instance— meant by any given name. 

jThis work appeared in 1774, and was translated into various languages. Werner waa 
twenty-four when he wrote it. 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. ^39 

tain a knowledge of the minerals themselves ; and how it was chiefly 
this unpleasant experience at Werner's lectures which afterward 
caused me to work out another quite opposite method in teaching 
mineralogy. 

It seems to me the natural way of beginning, to let the pupil first 
examine the mineral, without at the time enlightening him with any 
oral explanation whatever. In this way he receives a first simple im- 
pression on the senses. If this impression is remembered, he may 
then be told the names of the minerals examined.* 

It is important to begin with instructing in external characteristics, 
because this instruction communicates the results of the most 
thorough analysis of the general idea into its constituents. It would 
be vv'rong to begin by making the pupil observe in one mineral the 
weight alone, in another only the color or only the hardness; for 
such a method would break up the quiet, thoughtful, receptive mood 
proper to obtain an apprehension of the total idea. 

But after having mastered this total idea of the mineral, the pupil 
myst, especially if he desires to compare it with similar minerals, and 
to distinguish it from them, reduce this idea to its constituent pecu- 
liarities, even to the varying modifications of these peculiarities. For 
instance, on comparing gold with iron pyrites he will find both yel- 
low ; but there is a great difference between the pure, clear yellow of 
gold, and the pale whitish of the pyrites. He finds gold to be soft 
and malleable, while the brittle pyrites will give off to steel abundant 
sparks, large and smelling of sulphur, <fec. 

Thus, by a careful comparison of the separate peculiarities of both 
minerals, their great difference will clearly appear ; whereas, without 
such a process, only an indistinct notion of them would be had. In- 
deed, there are many minerals of which the general idea would lead 
into great errors without a closer analysis of their qualities. Thus, 
the student would be much more likely to class a beautiful yellow 
polished crystal along with the topaz than to rank it as similar to a 
piece of insignificant, opaque, homely, white quartz, though the latter 
is its proper place. 

Werner's theory of external marks is very simple, and quite suffi- 
cient to enable mining officials to deal with the minerals which they 
are likely to meet with. These oflScers can not go into delicate in- 
vestigations. For example, the purely scientific mineralogist determ- 
ines the specific gravity of a mineral by means of a fine balance. 
The specific gravity of water is taken as the unit, and that of the 
mineral is reckoned from it, and carried out to three or four decimal 

'The commencement of mineralogical instruction is entirely lilce that of geognosy and bot- 
any ; in every case, a vivid and permanent impression should be had of the total idea before 
any analysis of it. 



140 INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

places. The specific gravity of water being thus 1,000, that of gold 
is 19,258. The miner can not usually attempt so accurate a determ- 
ination ; but he can make that which Werner gives. He makes 
five grades of specific gravity ; and very judiciously taught his pupils to 
determine these, without balances, by poising the substance in the 
hand. He required them to be able to say only "Gold belongs 
among the extraordinarily heavy minerals ;"* not that "its specific 
gravity is 19,258." 

What Werner did not require from mining officers we can still 
less require of new beginners in mineralogy ; they must first learn to 
estimate specific gravities by the hand. 

Werner's mode of dealing with other points was similar. He 
treated his subject exhaustively, but was very far from giving a deli- 
cately accurate physical description of every separate item ; nor will he 
be found to furnish a mathematically developed crystallography.f 

As crystallization is one of the most important, if not the most im- 
portant, characteristics of a mineral, I shall devote a little space to it. 

The angles of crystals are mathematically true and unvarying; but 
the size of the side varies infinitely, without affecting the angles. 
Thus, for instance, we seldom find a cubic crystal with six equal sides ; 
but the right angles of its sides and corners are invariable.^ 

The beginner will find his study of the polyhedral crystals much 
perplexed by these variations of the size of the surfaces ; and, to 
assist him, he is usually furnished with models, in which the corres 
ponding sides are made equal. His model for the cube, for instance, 
has six equal squares ; that of the octahedron, eight equal and equi- 
lateral triangles. 

Above all, the beginner should be drilled in the recognition of crys- 
tals by the eye ; and his perceptions of their beautiful symmetry, and 
of the various relations connected with this symmetry, should be 
trained. 

I can not here set forth the details of the method which I should 
recommend in teaching mineralogy. § I shall only observe, in gen- 
eral, that the teacher must be careful not to carry the pupil too soon 
from the use of his senses to the mathematical part of his study.|| 

* This class includes minerals whose specific gravity is over 6,000. 

t It is not meant that the teacher ought to restrict himself entirely to Werner's theory of 
the external marks ; there are many points (in crystallography especially) which must be 
made more clear and definite than he made them. But, like Werner, the teacher must never 
lose sight of the elementary attitude. 

i More will hereafter be said on this point. 

§ On this point I refer to the chapter on Geometry, and to my " yl B C-Book of Crystallo- 
graphy," iA B C-Buch der Krystallkunde.) 

II What here follows may be used as additional to what was said above of the relation be- 
tween mathematical and elementary instruction in natural science. 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 14X 

It is enougli for the beginner to know that the cube has six sides, 
twelve edges, and eight corners. But that the edge, that the diago- 
nal of a side, and the axis of the crystal, are to each other as the 
square roots of 1, 2, and 3, is a fact with which he has no business ; 
nor has it any thing to do with the recognition of natural crystals. 
Nor need he be given the use of certain mathematical aids. He 
should describe the twelve edges of a cube standing on a horizontal 
surface thus : four horizontal edges above, four below, and four ver- 
tical ones. But he should not say, out of Euclid, "There are six 
quadrilateral surfaces, and the cube has therefore 6 X 4-^-2 = 12 edges. 
That such a calculation does not afford a full description of its form 
appears from crystals, whose surfaces consist of equal numbers of sides, 
but not of sides of the same form. Vesuvianite, [das Leuzitoeder,] 
for instance, has a surface of twenty-four trapeziums, and therefore 
24x4-h2=:48 edges; but twenty-four of these are entirely different 
from the other twenty-four. 

A beginner, if he understands subtraction, can by another formula 
ascertain very easily the number of angles of a body, of which he 
has not the slightest knowledge through his senses. This is, that the 
number of angles of a body equals that of its edges, diminished by 
that of its surfaces less two* If, therefore, I tell the beginner that a 
certain body has 540 edges and 182 surfaces, he can instantly say 
by his formula that it has 540 — 180 = 360 angles. But, if I give 
him the body itself, he is not in the least able to form such an idea 
of it as to determine that some of its angles are formed from six sur- 
faces, &c. He may perhaps not even be able to state, without first 
reasoning with himself, how many surfaces, edges, and angles there 
are in a cube. In short, his formula serves him, according to the 
familiar German proverb, as an asses' bridge. He neither under- 
stands it nor what he discovers by its means ; and the readiness with 
which he ascertains results by its use hinders him from strenuous 
labors to discover the right thing in the right way. 

But how, is the next question, shall the pupil learn to analyze the 
external marks of minerals — to consider the mineral with I'eference to 
each individual characteristic ? I reply : The best introduction, to this 
knowledge is to take him through a collection arranged by external 
marks ; in which each group, as far as possible, shall lie before him 
in the order of its colors, crystallization, &c. The teacher will need 
to give but very little aid — only to put into words what the pupil 
sees, or to require the more advanced pupils to do it themselves. 

* A=E— (S— 2.) From this, E or S can be determined, if the number of angles and sur- 
l&ces, or of edges and anglcB, is given. 



142 INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

This investigation of the collection should follow the general theory 
of external marks ; which is indeed only an arrangement of the 
characteristics which the pupil has learned to know from the examin- 
ation of single species * When the pupil has in this way attained a 
moderate degree of skill, in the objects and technics of the study, 
then, and not before, he is prepared to read mineralogies. Where 
the mineralogical author has translated minerals and species into 
words, a pupil thus trained can translate the words back again into 
minerals. Every word is to him a living incantation, which awakes 
the slumbering ideas previously impressed upon his mind. 

But, in order that each word may awaken the corresponding con- 
ception in the mind, all ambiguity must, as we have already shown, 
be avoided, and only one fixed term be used for each mineral and 
each characteristic. This was what Werner meant by his " Be not 
facile in choice of words, in order that you may agree in things." 
And the converse is true : Be not facile in selecting things, in order 
that you may agree in words. To understand words is only possible 
when things are understood. The utmost definiteness in terms, the 
most accurate expression, will be useless to the scholar, unless the 
most definite corresponding impressions exist in his mind, to be called 
up again by those expressions — by words. " No description," says 
Forster, in his " Views on the Lower Rhine,'''' {Ansichten vom Nieder- 
rhein,) " will convey to another what my own eyes have received directly 
from the object, unless he has something with which to compare that 
object. The botanist may describe to you a rose with the most ap- 
propriate terms of his science, may name all its parts even to the 
smallest, may state their relative size, form, position, substance, sur- 
face, and coloring — in short, he may give you such a description as, 
if you had the rose before you, would leave nothing to desire — and yet 
it would be impossible, if you had never seen a rose, for him thus to 
call up an image of it which should correspond with the original. No 
painter would dare undertake to paint from description a flower 
which he had never seen. But take but a single look, one single ob- 
servation with the senses, and its image is indelibly imprinted upon 
the mind." Can any one doubt whether Forster is right, or that 
learned man who flattered himself that he had so perfectly described 
a certain cabinet of antiquities that it might safely be entirely de- 
stroyed, because a skillful sculptor could completely restore it from 
his description ? If Forster is right, which I do not doubt, then it 
must needs be admitted that the endeavor is utterly foolish to teach 
a knowledge of minerals by mere oral instruction and reading of 
books. 

*For further details on this point see Appendix II. 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 243 

i have thus endeavored to describe the method of my instructions 
in mineralogy, and its reasons ; and to show how the pupil may be 
gradually carried onward, from his first silent and simple observation 
of nature, to a full and intelligent comprehension and description of 
minerals and all their peculiarities.* It remains to offer some observ- 
ations on the traits of pupils. 

VIII. CHARACTERISTICS OF PUPIIA 

There is a universal method of instruction, applicable to all pupils, 
and based upon the nature of its subject, which is the same for all 
pupils, and upon the universal qualities of human character. I have 
hitherto discussed this method, which was that followed by me in 
teaching mineralogy. 

It is usually thought that he who is master of a department of study 
is a qualified teacher of it ; too little regard being had to his knowl- 
edge of his pupils. And thus many teachers are deficient in an un- 
derstanding of the universal relation that exists between the pupil 
and the study, and in the skill in teaching which depends upon that 
understanding — the universal method. 

I soon learned, however, not usually instructing by the ordinary 
method of lectures, how little there is in common in mineralogical 
instruction and in the universal method. I found pupils of so dis- 
tinctly different and even opposite characters that I saw plainly that 
it was impossible to instruct them all in the same way. And the 
longer I taught the more I felt the necessity of studying the pecu- 
liarities of pupils with the same attention which is usually devoted 
only to the subject of instruction ; that the teacher of natural history 
should be able to draw up as good a monograph upon single scholars 
as upon single species. But in order to pay attention to each individ- 
ual pupil, and to be able to instruct him in a proper manner, the 
teacher must be such a master of his subject that no difficulty will 
nise to embarrass him while he is teaching. In this mode of regard- 
ing each single pupil I have had many experiences, bad and good ; 
of which I will here mention a few. 

And, first, the bad ones. 

Complaints are made of inactive muscles, of weak arms, shoulders, 
and legs; but much more complaint should be made of imperfect 
senses, and especially of eyes dulled almost to entire insensibility. 
This I have found, to my sorrow, in many pupils, particularly the 
older ones. And no wonder. Brought up in the city, among books, 
their eyes were directed to almost nothing except reading and writing, 

*It is only after tuvinf reached this jwint that they should take up mineralogic*! 
chemietry. 



144 INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

a sad and grievous slavery, in wliicli the unfortunate senses were left 
almost destitute of any pleasure, stimulus, or refreshment, and with- 
out any cultivation by use. The eyes of the younger pupils were 
more active, because they bad not been so long in slavery. There 
were however some exceptions among the older ones, in the cases of 
those whose early experience had obliged them to use their eyes ; as 
in some miners and smelters, young people from the country, and a 
painter's son. 

This dullness of eye was partly bodily, but chiefly mental. It was 
only very gradually that the torpid bodily senses grew more acute, 
and that the active reciprocal stimulating influence between mind and 
senses, so long disused, was re-established. What made this re-estab- 
lishment specially difficult was the fact that most of them, brought 
up under oral instruction on all subjects whatever, partook of the 
prevailing belief that every thing in the world could be communicated 
orally, even mineralogy ; and that therefore there was no need what- 
ever for a direct observation of nature by the senses. They were in 
despair at any attempt to induce them to make such observations ; 
and intimated that their teacher was pre-eminently endowed for that 
purpose by nature, and that it would be far wiser for him to tell them 
what his good, well-trained eyes saw in the minerals than to try to 
make them see, with their incapable and untaught eyes. There were 
but few of them whom I could make understand why mere oral lec- 
tures were useless in this pursuit; and I succeeded but with a few, 
who were practicing bodily exercises. I said to them that they needed 
to exercise their eyes in this study, as much as they did their arms 
and legs in their gymnastics ; and that they might as well expect to 
learn to run and leap by attending lectures on Jahn's Gymnastics 
as to become acquainted with minerals by lectures on them. This 
made the case clear to these few. 

Again, there was another class of pupils with whom I had great 
difficulty in being understood. This new requirement, to use thei|i 
torpid eyes, and to examine the minerals attentively and quietly, 
seemed very extraordinary to them. It was as if I was making them 
read a book in a foreign language, which I could translate, and which, 
out of obstinacy, I would not. Innumerable questions betrayed theii 
thoughts. I ought at least to tell them the names, before they exam- 
ined the minerals. And when I replied, that those pupils who gained 
clear and definite ideas of the appearance of the minerals, without 
knowing their names, would please me infinitely more than those 
who should remember their names without their appearance, they 
did not understand me ; for they had usually been accustomed, in 
their study of geography, history, &c., to satisfy their teacher with 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. I45 

the emptiest memorization of names. I liad the most trouble with 
some grown-up persons, whose powers of thought had been un 
naturally stimulated, and who had thus lost that quiet mood of mind 
which is indispensable for enjoying the benefit of a real thorough and 
intelligent recepti\it3'. They were incessantly interrupted and divert- 
ed by notions that occurred to them — the untimely misconceptions 
of a cursory, superficial mode of observation. 

But this will suffice for these unfortunate experiences; which I do 
not lay to the account of my pupils, but which were the necessary 
outgrowth of the period. I am the less disposed to blame my pupils 
for these things because I myself, when a scholar, had the same expe- 
rience, even sometimes to a greater degree. I was even earlier in 
my conviction that every thing could be learned out of a book ; and 
in feeling the same despair at being set to use my eyes. During 
subsequent years, especially, I have enjoyed a large overplus of pleas- 
ant experiences, even with pupils who were at first exceedingly 
awkward. If the visual powers are once awakened, if the least 
mutual stimulation is awakened between the senses and the mind, 
the susceptibilities of the mind and the senses increase with every 
day. 

It appears, from what has been said, that every pupil develops 
himself in his own peculiar manner. Some of them were lucid, 
intelligent, prompt, appropriate, definite, and certain in answering; 
while othei"S were more inclined to feeling, quiet and withdrawn 
within themselves, slower to understand and later in attaining power 
of expression. 

Some seemed to have equal talents for every thing; while others 
were inclined in some one direction. Some, particularly, seemed to 
have a remarkable susceptibility to color and luster, but to be quite 
wanting in perception of form ; while others were precisely the con- 
trary, having an acute eye for form, but being deficient in feeling for 
luster or color. These last were often inclined to proceed quickly 
from actual observation of objects to mathematical treatment of them ; 
fiome even carrying this tendency so far as to begin it altogether pi-e- 
maturely, and as to be entirely indifferent whether an octahedron 
was the most beautiful diamond, or a wooden one. In this way they 
forgot the most important consideration for them ; namely, that they 
were dealing with the marvelous creations of God, not with the mere 
thoughts of men. 

,The active and sensitive eyes of those who had a feeling for color 
and luster, on the contrary, .became gradually educated to a full appre- 
hension of the crystals, in all the beauty of their forms and modifica- 
tions. They also comprehended the mathematical laws of these- 

10 



146 INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

forms, so far as they could be deduced immediately from actual observ- 
ation of them ; but showed a want of facility in mastering the pure 
mathematics of the subject, and a dishke for it. 

Some pupils showed similar tendencies toward particular groups of 
minerals, and dislikes for others ; and they mastered more easily a 
knowledge of those they liked, even when they seemed, to one free 
from any prepossession on the subject, much more difficult than the 
others. 

These and other peculiarities of pupils, which I can not fully de- 
scribe without giving an account of each individual pupil, became the 
cause of my opinion that teaching exclusively in one general method 
is quite impossible. 

IX. INSTRUCTION IN BOTANY. 

In the private school at Nuremberg, where I instructed for three 
years, I also taught botany. The plants used were found in the 
neighborhood of the city, or in the garden of the institution. The 
most common garden-plants, as being best known and most useful, 
were made most prominent — as domestic animals wore in zoology. 
When the boys returned from their excursions, the plants they had 
collected were laid fresh together on a table, examined, and named. 
At the end of the lesson, each pupil entered the names on a paper, 
and afterward in a book, divided as follows : — 

4 

TIME. NAME. PLACE. REMARKS. 

May. Granulous Saxifrage. Miigeldorf. Has a granulated root. 

The pupils might write under " Remarks " whatever they chose ; 
and each, of course, inserted what had struck him most in looking at 
the plant. I have already observed that I considered it a very great 
error to require from beginners a complete and exhaustive description; 
inasmuch as this must be based upon a previous analysis of a 
total conception, which they have not yet attained. 

These registers of plants served afterward as "botanical calendars, 
from which could be seen where and at what time certain plants could 
be found ; as, saxifrage at Mogeldorf, in May, &c. They also now 
began, of their own accord, to classify the species into genera. A 
boy brought in a plant, and was told that it was a speedwell, and after 
a few days he brought in another, and very correctly said, " Here is 
another sort of speedwell." So simple and natural, in strongly- 
marked plants, is the arrangement into genera of species. 

It will be found judicious, lest this scientific examination shoull 
make them indifferent to the beauty of the flowers, and make them 
too exclusively occupied with the use of the intellect alone, to employ 
such as show sufficient taste for it, in drawing flowers. 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 147 

During the first summer my pupils acquired a knowledge of between 
three and four hundred varieties. This is rather too great a number 
than too small ; it is better to get a thorough and permanent acquaint- 
ance with a few plants than an indistinct and superficial one of many. 

X. NECESSARY INCONSISTENCY. 

Bacon says * "There is scarce any entrance to the domain of human 
science than to the kingdom of heaven, into which one can not enter 
unless he become as a little child." 

The poetf makes a similar demand upon the public, at the repre- 
sentation of his dramatized plays ; where he demands that the spec- 
tators shall for a time forget their education and their knowledge, 
and "become children again." But the people answer him, "We 
thank God that we are no longer children; our education cost us 
pains and sweat enough." 

I have before complained that the pupils at our schools of learning 
dive so entirely among books and lectures — in a world of words, and 
so entirely shut out from any active intercourse with nature and life — 
that they have usually, by the time that they enter the university, 
forgotten the first impressions of nature which they received in 
childhood, and seem even to have lost the child's capacity of receiving 
them. Their minds, in this case, must now be first awakened anew 
to nature, and brought back to their former childlike condition, not 
exclusively by actual observation, but chiefly by words — by the stim- 
ulus of properly-directed oral lectures. 

It was from this point of view that I endeavored to perform my 
task of lecturing on general natural history. And even in ray lectures 
on mineralogy, I accommodated myself to the necessities of the case. 
That is, although 1 regularly instructed my younger scholars in the 
manner I have described, yet in the subsequent academical lectures I 
varied, in one respect, from it. In order to render oral instruction pos- 
sible, I was forced, whether I would or no, to begin with instruction in 
external marks ; with a practical explanation of the technical mineralog- 
ical terras. In other respects I remained quite true to my earlier method. 

XI. "mysteriously revealed." t 
Instruction in mineralogy, botany, and zoology leads, as we have 
seen, from actual inspection to the development of the ideas of species, 
genera, &c., which are component parts of created beings, and are 
revealed by examining their appearances. These ideas connect what 
are of like kinds, and separate them from those unlike them. 

♦Nov. Org, I., 68. 

t Tieck, in " Puss in Boots," (Phantasus,) 2, 247. 

t " Thou stand'st mysteriously revealed." Goethe's *' Winter Journey to the Bart." 
Harzreife im Winter.) 



148 INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

But when we have correctly learned and expressed these generic 
ideas, have we thus arrived at the actuality of their existence? — have 
we learned what is the essence of their being and life ? 

Haller, who all his long life unweariedly and honestly investigated 
nature, may answer : 

"No spirit, however creative, can pierce the secrets of nature." 

No created spirit he meant, of course ; the Creator is to be excepted. 
And the great Bacon agrees with Haller:* "It is falsely claimed that 
the senses of man are the measure of things; on the other hand, all 
the apprehensions, both of the senses and of the intellect, correspond 
to the essential nature of man, not to that of the universe. The 
human understanding is like an uneven mirror in reflecting objects — 
it mingles up its own nature with their nature, and confuses and 
colors them," And Newton's doctrine is the same, when he says, 
" We see only the forms and colors of bodies, hear only their sounds, 
feel only their outer surfaces, smell only their perfume, taste only 
their flavor ; the essence of their being we can perceive by no sense 
and by no reflection."! 

Goethe at one time controverted Haller's assertion, but afterward 
agreed with it. He says,J "The true, identical with the divine, will 
never permit itself to be directly perceived by us ; we discern it only 
in reflections, examples, symbols ; in single and related phenomena ; 
we become aware of its existence as an incomprehensible life, and 
yet can not escape the desire of comprehending it." 

Cuvier repeatedly admits that there are incomprehensible mysteries 
in his science. Thus he says, "The operation of external things 
upon the consciousness, the awakening of a perception, a conception, 
is a secret impenetrable to our reason." The great zoologist, who 
has surpassed all in investigating the laws of the animal creation, 
comes upon the question — what is life ? and how does it exist ? and 
he confesses that these important questions can not be answered; that 
life is a profound mystery .§ 

AYe often hear the confession, " How vast is that of which we are 
ignorant!" We readily admit that we know nothing of the interior 
of Africa, or of the lands near the poles ; that probably many new 
plants, animals, and minerals may be discovered there, and the like ; 

•Nov. Org., I., 41. 

t Principia, 3, 1, 675. (Le Seur's ed., 1760.) " Their essence we can perceive by no sense^ 
no reflection ; and much less have we any idea of the essential substance of God." 

t Works, 51, 254. 

§ Cuvier's "Animal Kingdom," translated by Voigt, vol. 1, 9, 10. " All the endeavors of 
physicists have been unable to inform us how life is organized ; whether of itself, or from 
some external source." '' The existence of organized bodies is therefore the greatest secret 
of organic economy, and of all nature." 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 24g 

Irtit wliat if we are convicted of universal ignorance of every thing 
included in the domain of science ? I repeat : Have we effected a 
perfectly exhaustive investigation of any single existence or fact in 
nature ? Is it not rather the case that every such fact has both its 
comprehensible and incomprehensible side, and, like the moon, turns 
one side toward us, sometimes lighter and sometimes darker, but 
keeps the other always turned from us ? * 

Did not Cuvier, so mighty in investigating the laws of the 
animal creation, yet find each animal a riddle, and was he not thus 
brought to confess that life was a riddle to him ? 

When the mineralogist measures and computes, with his utmost 
accuracy, the primitive rhomboids of calcareous spar, and determines 
mathematically its relation to the many hundreds of crystallized forms 
which that mineral oft'ers, does he, for all this, understand these 
rhomboids ? Can he tell how it is that it becomes possible to split 
them in three directions, parallel to the three parts of rhombic surfaces, 
so that each surface of cleavage shall be a perfect plane — polished, 
and with angles mathematically true? We shall look to him in vain 
for answers to these questions. 

The astronomer, of all men, claims to be the most scientific. He 
computes with accuracy the movements of planets, and comets, and 
moons, at vast distances of time and place, and demonstrates the most 
delicate observation in his astronomical prophecy as the correctness 
of a problem is demonstrated by the proof. Is there here also room 
for ignorance? I reply: Count one hundred while the minute-hand 
of a watch is going from twelve to one, and go on counting at the 
same rate. You can then predict with certainty that when you have 
counted six hundred the hand will stand at six, and when you have 
counted twelve hundred it will have completed its circuit. But not- 
withstanding this prediction, you may perhaps never have opened 
the watch, and may know nothing whatever of its construction or 
mechanism. Even so is it with the astronomer. However accurately 
he can compute the path of Jupiter, can he for that reason tell what 
are the essential qualities of Jupiter ?f What man can even answer 

•"Because that which may be known of God is manifest in them." "For we know in 
part * • • but when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be 
done away * ' ' now I know in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known." 

t Newton, who, as we have seen, considered the real essence of all bodies entirely incom- 
prehensible to man, would of course reply that such requirements could not be s^atisfied. 
The originator of the theory of gravitation, he repeatedly declared that he knew only quali- 
ties of gravity, not its essence. Thus he says, " I have explained the phenomena of the 
heaven and of the sea by the power of gravity, but I have not assigned any cause for gravity." 
Again, having stated the qualities of gravity, he says, " But I have not been able to deduce 
from the phenomena the cause of these properties of gravity, and I offer no hypothesis." 
(Princip., 1. c, p 676.) And in like manner in the " 0/)<ics." (Clarke's ed, 1740, p. 326.) 
" There are efficient principles, such as gravity, whose existence is testified to by natural 
phenomena; but what are the causes of these principles has never been explained. Every 



150 INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

tlie question, What is the essential nature of the earth — of this very- 
earth on which you live ? And if any one should pretend to have 
an answer to it, he may be replied to with the reply of the Earth- 
Spirit in Goethe's Faust : 

" Thou art equal to the spirit which thou comprehendest — 
Not to me." 

Such considerations should not, however, lead to an apathetic 
despair of understanding any understanding of nature, but should 
only counteract the illusive notion that man can understand created 
things in the way in which only God, their creator, can understand 
them.* To us nature is " mysteriously revealed." 

But, it may be inquired, what is the value of this discussion in a 
work on pedagogy ? 

I reply : A recognition of the wonderful union of revelation and 
mystery in nature, and the clearest possible perception of the bound- 
ary between them, will exercise a most important influence upon the 
character of the teacher and upon his study of nature. 

The mysteries of nature will direct him in humility and earnest- 
ness toward eternity; while he will investigate what is susceptible 
of being known with conscientious and persevering industry, thanking 
God for every pleasure which he receives from discovering the beau- 
tiful and invariable divine laws.f 

And how can this state of feeling and this knowledge in the 
teacher fail to have the greatest and most excellent influence upon his 
methods of instruction ? 

Any one doubtful as to the goodness of this influence will be con- 
vinced of it, if he will examine the bad influence exerted on their 
scholars by such teachers as are destitute of the knowledge and 
feeling which give it; who live in a narrow circle of overestimation 
of themselves. For them there are no mysteries; they can compre- 
hend every thing. And then it most commonly happens that they 
fail to observe and learn what is really attainable, while they weary 
themselves in vain over the incomprehensible ; and thus, instead of 
ascertaining divine laws, they hatch out a parcel of chimeras, which 
in their presumptuous blindness they set up as being those laws. The 
proverb may well be applied to them, that they make fools of them- 
selves by thinking themselves so wise. And they make their scholars 
fools. 

where the qualities are manifest, but their causes are hidden." And again, "There are 
originating causes (principia) of motion, as gravity. But the causes of these I leave to be 
investigatt-d." 

* " By universal analogy.'" — (Bacon.) 

t As Kepler repeatedly does. 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. Jgj 

XII. LAW AND FREEDOM. 

Beginners are dismayed at the apparent irregularity of crystals. 
On corapaiing, for instance, the model of a cube, of six equal sides, 
•with a cubic crystal of fluor spar, whose sides are very unequal, he 
fancies that, notwithstanding the right angles of the spar, there is by 
no means as entire a regularity in the natural crystal as in the artifi- 
cial model. 

To remove this error, we may first consider the way in which laws 
prevail in the vegetable world. When the botanist says of the lily 
that its blossom has a si.K-petaled campanulate corolla, six anthers, 
a sexfid, capsule, &c., a German lily will answer the description as 
well as a lily from Mount Carmel. And so do the carefully painted 
lilies in old paintings ; they have a six-leaved corolla, six anthers, &c. 
Thus the generic description, which the botanist gives, applies to 
lilies of all countries and periods. The close adherence to the law 
is evident; but an ignorant person, on learning so much, might proba- 
bly conclude that all lilies were all exactly alike, and that accordingly 
great monotony must prevail throughout the creation. Such was 
the idea of the electress who denied Leibnitz's assertion that no leaf 
was precisely like another ; but all her endeavors to find two precisely 
alike were quite in vain. It would be equally impossible to find two 
lilies exactly alike, though they grew upon the same stem. "The 
law of the Lord is unchangeable," but their unchangeableness does 
not produce a disagreeable monotony among the individuals subject 
to it; but under its protection there prevails an agreeable variety 
and unconstrained beauty. 

This appears still more clearly in the animal kingdom ; most of all 
in the human race. Here the law becomes less and less apparent, and 
the freedom of the individual is so prominent that the wicked quite 
forget the power of God, either over individuals or the race. " The 
fool hath said in his heart, There is no God,'' but the pious finds 
peace in the love of God, and says, "I desire not to be free without 
Thee ; let my will be thine and thine mine." 

From this culminating point of revealed freedom and concealed 
law, to return to the silent mineral world. While the ungodly may 
fall into the delusion that he is entirely independent and free, we may 
take the mineral kingdom as the realm of entire dependence. Here 
we find no notions of freedom. 

Freedom, in the moral sense, can be predicated only of men ; the 
freedom, that is, of individual action. But a first suggestion, a dawn 
of this freedom, an evidence that God desires not a world of uniform 
puppets, but of free and independent creatures, is revealed in the 



152 INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

realm of nature, by this infinite variety of individuals, included un- 
der one and the same generic idea. 

And this is true even of the crystals of the mineral kingdom. If 
we find a crystal prismatic, six-sided, and terminated at each end by 
a six-sided pyramid, we shall find the number of surfaces, and the 
angles, invariable ; but there is an infinite variety in the size of the 
sides of the prism and pyramids. No crystal is like another, any 
more than a leaf. And it is this very variety in size which brings out 
the beautiful relations* which do not appear from the model, because 
all its similar surfaces are of equal size. 

The pupil's attention should be directed to these relations ; and he 
will thus escape the mistaken idea that the natural crystals, instead 
of being really like the artificial model, are only attempts to be like it. 

CONCLUSION. 

It is my heartfelt wish that instruction in natural science, in for- 
mer periods entirely neglected, may be increasingly given ; but that 
it may be given in the right spirit and in the right way, so that the 
feelings, senses, and understandings of the young may be trained by 
it, from their early years, to a clear and ascertained comprehension 
of the creation — that other Holy Writ. 

Any one imagining that such a course of training would enslave 
the senses, would most wrongfully confuse the right and. holy exercise 
of the senses with tjieir beastly abuse. For the natural philosopher 
uses his senses to the honor of God ; and if he makes them serve 
base lusts and passions, he will by that means blunt and finally de- 
stroy their loftier susceptibilities. Therefore the teacher of natural 
history must, above all, urge upon his pupils the necessity of holiness ; 
must contend against wicked lusts ; must cultivate in them chaste 
and pure feelings, and childlike innocence of heart. He must seek 
to secure for them a consecration such as a divine would properly re- 
quire in order to the pious study of the Holy Scnptures. 

Such a devotional method of investigating the creation takes a 
more and more spiritual form. Mere mortal and bodily envelopes 
disappear : and immortal thoughts, rooted in God, awaken and stim- 
ulate to a higher life. 

Thus also is developed the whole man. In the imaginative period 
of childhood, the material world, so rich in suggestions, surrounds 
and enchains him. His senses are being more and more developed, 
up to the period of adult life ; they are the means for influencing his 
immortal soul. As he reaches the limit of earthly life, they begin to 
* Such as the parallelisDa of the edges. 



INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. I53 

disappear ; and we then complain tLat the powers of our eyes and 
ears are decaying. But let us not complain ; let us herein recognize 
a token that in the man, his bodily senses sated with the phenomena 
of this earth, all things are spiritualizing and growing clearer ; and 
that he is thus ripening and adapting himself for a higher life. All 
earthly things are ended ; heaven is opening to us. 

NOTE. 

Aids for Teaching Minekalooy.* — Besides the academical collection atBreslau, 
I made use in my instruction there of two smaller ones. The first consisted of only 
ten cases, containing specimens of all the important groups, and was intended for 
beginners ; not only for their first inspection, but to aflbrd some rough instruction 
in manipulation. Fiat expeHmentuni in re vili ; and accordingly this first collec- 
tion was of little value ; so that any little injury from unskillful handling could 
do but small harm. 

After this the pupils came to the second collection, which occupied fifty-four 
cases. The specimens were small, but mostly fresh and clean. In going through 
with this collection I mentioned the names of groups ; so that the pupils obtained 
an intelligent and actual list of names, and a general view of all the groups. 
Some details of colors and crystals were omitted. 

It was only after this that I introduced them to the main collection, of three 
hundred and fifty-five cases. In going through this collection, the pupils might, 
as in the others, take each specimen in their hands, but must replace it in its 
paper box. Where it was useless or injurious to take them in the hands, as in 
examining the colors, for instance, it was of course not practiced. If the pupil 
has been made acquainted with the careful handling of the specimens, this method 
does not injure Jhem. The collection is not intended merely for the teacher's 
scientific investigation, and still less for empty show ; but principally for the 
instruction of the pupils ; which can not be thoroughly done without permitting 
this handling. This purpose of the collection also decided me not to expend its 
income for expensive curiosities, or the novelties of the day, which are commonly 
of very small relative scientific value, and to the beginner of none whatever. 
In the place of one unimportant scrap of euclase can be bought a large number 
of instructive crystals of quartz, calcareous spar, &c. This principle is of course 
not applicable to collections which are not at all, or not entirely, intended for 
instruction, and which are suflB.ciently provided with all common specimens, and 
with incomes. 

The chief collection was arranged generally on Werner's plan. According to 
this, the pupil had to go through the groups according to their separate peculiari- 
ties ; first according to color, then transparency, then luster, crystallization, &c. 

To afford the pupil a scientific gratification as soon as possible, I was accus- 
tomed to permit him, if capable, to take some single group, whose crystallization 
was easy, and go through with it ; such as lead glance, fluor spar, &c. Thus he 
gained a first clear comprehension of the wondrous intelligence that pervades 
nature. If there were two pupils, perhaps not precisely equal, but of about 
equal, capacity, I caused them to go through the collection together ; which was 
beneficial to both. On the contrary, nothing is more harmful than to class to- 
gether in this way pupils of unequal capacity. The more capable is impeded, or 
wearied, by the slow progress of him who is less so ; and the latter again despairs 

* What is here said relates to my instructions in mineralogy at Breslau. No objection should be 
made respecting the richness of the collection there ; for something can be done, even with 
tmaller means. 



154 INSTRUCTION IN NATURAL SCIENCE. 

at the rapidity of the former. I kept a diary, in which I daily entered briefly the 
work of each pupil, and how he had done it. This is of the greatest use in trac- 
ing and guiding their development. If the number of pupils was large, I found 
the following arrangement very convenient. I had all the more difficult crystals 
numbered, according to Hauy's plates, and the number lay with each one. The 
pupils, who had made sufficient progress, made a written description of the crys- 
tals, and laid their paper next to the described crystal. Thus only a very brief 
comparison of their description with my own was necessary. If they agreed, well ; 
if not, the pupil studied the crystal further, until the descriptions coincided— un- 
less, indeed, there had been an error on my part. Of such an occurrence I am 
never ashamed. I do not desire to be to my pupils an undisputed authority, 
but a teacher who understands his duty to them ; and his first duty is love of 
truth. 



GEOMETRY. 

[Translated from Raumer's "History of Pedagogy," for the American Journal of Education.] 



The school-days of the writer fell in the latter years of the last 
century. At that time the opinion prevailed that but few scholars 
had a talent for mathematics ; an opinion, indeed, which seemed to 
be supported by the usually trifling results of mathematical instruction. 
Later defenders of this department of study, however, controverted 
this doctrine. It is not the pupils, they said, who are deficient in 
capacity for learning mathematics ; it is the teachers, who have not 
the talent for teaching it. If the teachers would follow the proper 
method, they would learn that all boys have more or less capacity 
for mathematics. • 

When I remember how often even the more talented of my com- 
panions fell into despair from finding themselves, with the best 
inclination, unable to follow the instructions of their mathematical 
teacher, I find myself ready to agree with these defenders. 

At the end of my university course, I went to Freiberg, At the 
raining school there, under the able instruction of Werner, I first 
became acquainted with crystallography, which had inexpressible 
attractions for me. The more I advanced in this study, and the 
greater my love of it, the more clearly I saw that crystallography 
was for me the right beginning, the introduction, to geometry. What 
if this is the case, I reflected, with others also; especially for students 
of a more receptive tendency, who are repelled by the rigors of 
logical demonstrations ? 

No one can quite escape from himself; and the reader will forgive 
me if, in the following views upon elementary instruction in geology, 
I exhibit too much of the course of my own studies in it. He can, 
however, abstract what is merely personal from what is applicable to 
others. 

And now to my subject. 

Formerly geometry and Euclid were synonymous terms. To study 
Euclid was to study geometry ; he was the personification of geometry. 
His '■^ Elements,'^ a school-book for two thousand years, is much the 
oldest scientific school-book in the world. Composed three hundred 
years before Christ, for the Museum at Alexandria, it was exclusively 



256 GEOMETRY. 

used in ancient times, and in modern times also, down to tlie eighteenth 
century. 

To this imposing permanent eminence of Euclid's " Elements^^ for 
two thousand years, corresponds its great diffusion among civilized 
and even half-civilized nations. This is shown most strikingly by the 
great number of translations of it. It has been translated into Latin, 
German, French, English, Dutch, Danish, Swedish, Spanish, Hebrew, 
Arabic, Turkish, Persian, and Tartar.* 

With few exceptions, there is the utmost harmony in praise of 
Euclid. Let us hear the evidence of a few authors. Montiicla, the 
historian, says, "Euclid, in his work, the best of all of its kind, col- 
lected together the elementary truths of geometry which had been 
discovered before him ; and in such a wonderfully close connection 
that there is not a single proposition which does not stand in a 
necessary relation to those preceding and following it. In vain have 
various geometers, who disliked Euclid's arrangement, endeavored to 
break it up, without injuring the strength of his demonstrations. 
Their weak attempts have shown how difficultat is to substitute, for 
the succession of the ancient geometer, another as compact and skill- 
ful. This was the opinion of the celebrated Leibnitz, whose authority, 
in mathematical points, must have great weight; and Wolf, who has 
related this of him, confesses that he had in vain exerted himself to 
bring the truths of geometry into a completely methodical order, 
without admitting any undemonstrated proposition, or impairing the 
strength of the chain of proof. The English mathematicians, who 
seem to have displayed most skill in geometry, have always been 
of a similar opinion. In England, works seldom appear intended to 
facilitate the study of the sciences, but in fact impede them. There, 
Euclid is almost the only elementary work; and England is certainly 
not wanting in geometry." 

The opinion of Lorenz agrees entirely with that of Montucla. In 
Euclid's works, he says, "Both teacher and pupil will alike find 
instruction and enjoyment. While the former may admire the skill- 
ful association and connection of his propositions, and the judgment 
with which his demonstrations are joined to each other and arranged 
in succession, the latter will enjoy the remarkable clearness and (in a 
certain sense) comprehensibility which he finds in him. But this 
ease of comprehension is not of that kind which is rhetorical rather 
than demonstrative, and this absolves from reflection and mental 
effort; such an ease, purchased at the expense of thoroughness, would 
be beneath the dignity of such a science as geometry. And more- 

* Montiicla, I., 24. The list of editions and translations of Euclid's •' Elements " occupies, 
in the fourth part of Fabricius' " Bibliothcca Grmca," si.\teen quarto pages. 



GEOMETRY. I5Y 

over Euclid himself was so penetrated with a sense of the derivation 
of the value of geometry, from the strict course pursued in its demon- 
strations, that he would not venture to promise even his king any- 
other way to learn it than that laid down in the 'Elements?* And 
in truth, the strictly scientific procedure, which omits nothing, but 
refers every thing to a few undeniable truths by a wise arrangement 
and concatenation of propositions, is the only one which can be of 
the greatest possible formal and material use; and authors or teachers, 
who lead their readers or pupils by any other route, do not act fairly 
either to them or to the science. Nor have the endeavors, which 
have at various times been made, to change Euclid's system, and 
sometimes to adopt another arrangement of his propositions, some- 
times to substitute other proofs, ever gained any permanent success, 
but have soon fallen into oblivion. Geometry will not come into the 
so-called 'school method,' according to which every thing derived 
from one subject — a triangle, for instance — is to be taken up together. 
Its only rule of proceeding is to take up first what is to serve for the 
right understanding of what comes afterward." 

Thus Lorenz considered Euclid's work unimprovable, both as a 
specimen of pure mathematics and as a class-book. Kartner thought 
the same. The more the manuals of geometry differ from Euclid, he 
said, the worse they are. And Montucla, after the paragraph which 
I have quoted, proceeds to detail the defects of the correctors of 
Euclid. Some, disregarding strictness of demonstration, have resorted 
to the method of inspection. Others have adopted the principle that 
they will not treat of any species of magnitude — of triangles, for 
instance — until they have fully discussed lines and angles. This last, 
Montucla calls a soit of childish affectation ; and says that, to adhere 
to the proper geometrical strictness in this method, the number of 
demonstrations is increased as much as it would be by beginning 
with any thing of a compound nature, and yet so simple as not to 
require any succession of steps to arrive at it. And he adds : "I will 
even go further, and am not afraid to say that this affected arrange- 
ment restricts the mind, and accustoms it to a method which is quite 
inconsistent with any labors as a discoverer. It discovers a few truths 
with great effort, when it would be no harder to seize with one grasp 
the stem of which these truths are only the branches." f 

' •' There is no royal road to geometry." 

jThis reads as if Montiicia had read many of the modern mathematical works. The 
abridgment and alteration of the '■ Elements " began as early as in the sixteenth century, and 
in the second half of the seventeenth the number of altered editions increased. Such were 
" Eight books of Euclid' X ^Elements.' arranged for the easier understanding, by Dechales," 
(^Euclidi's elementorum libri oclo,ad faciliorem captum cccommodali nuctore Dechales,) 1660; 
and ^^ Euclid's 'Elements,' demonstrated in a neic and compendious manner" { EuclidVs elemen- 
ta novamethodo ct conipendiarie demnnatrala,) Sen.-=. 1690, <S:c. Montucla may also have had 



158 GEOMETRY. 

The opinions of the admirers of Euclid seem to agree in this: 
that the ^'^ Elements'''' constitute a whole, formed of many propositions, 
connected with each other in the firmest and most indissoluble con- 
nection, and that the order of the propositions can not be disturbed, 
because each is rendered possible by, and based upon, the preceding, 
and again serves to render possible and to found the next. As a 
purely mathematical work, and as a manual of instruction, Euclid's 
^^ Elements'''' are so excellent that all attempts to improve it have 
failed. 

On reading: these extracts it mia:ht be imagined that all the world 
was quite unarrimous on the subject of instruction in geometry, and 
that all acknowledged as their one undoubted master this author, who 
has wielded for two thousand years the scepter of the realm of geom- 
etry. But far from it. We find strange inconsistencies prevailing 
on the subject, which are in the most diametrical opposition to these 
supposed opinions respecting Euclid. For how can we reconcile the 
discrepancy of finding the same men who see in Euclid such a closely 
knit, independent, and invariable succession of propositions, omitting, 
in instruction, whole books of the "Elements P'' If they make use 
of the whole of the first book, this only proves that they consider 
that book as a complete and independent whole. Others go as far as 
through the sixth book, omitting, however, the second and fifth ; and 
still others take the first, sixth, then the seventh, and then the eleventh 
and twelfth, entirely omitting the thirteenth. Can a book of the 
supposed character of this be treated in such a way, losing sometimes 
five, sometimes nine, and sometimes twelve of its thirteen books ? 

But how, I ask again, can we reconcile such treatment with such 
descriptions of EucHd's '■'■Elements?'''' If we closely examine these 
descriptions, however, we shall see that, notwithstanding the lofty 
tone of their laudations, they still lack something. All praise the 
thorough and close connection of the book, but nothing more. It is 
as if, in representing a handsome man, he should be made only mus- 
cular and strong-boned ; or, as if the only thing said in praise of 
Strasburg Minster should be that its stones were hewed most accu- 
rately, and most closely laid together. But is there nothing in the 
work of Euclid to admire except the masterl}', artistic skill with which 
lie built together so solidly his masonry, his mathematical proposi- 

reference to the '' Netc Elements of Geometry," (Nouveaiir elcmens de geometrie,) Paris, 
1667. This was by Arnauld, of the celebrated school of Port-Royal. Lacroix says of it, " It 
is, as I believe, the first work in which the geometrical propositions were classed according 
to abstractions ; the properties of lines being treated first, then those of surfaces, and then 
those of bodies " '■'■Essays on instruction generally and in mathematics in particular," 
(Essais sur I'enseignement en general et sur celui des mathematiques en partieuHer,) By 
Lacroix, Paris, 1816, p. 289. Unfortunately, 1 have been unable to examine Arnauld's work. 
By Lacroix's description, it would seem to have been a forerunner of the Pestalozzian school. 



GEOMETRY. 



159 



tions ? Is there not very much beauty in the scientific thought, so pro- 
profound, so comprehensive, and so thoroughly diffused through 
every part of the work ? The great Kepler was even inspired by 
this beauty, and was exceedingly enraged at Ramus' attack on Euclid, 
especially against the tenth book of the ^^ Elements.''' Ramus said 
that he had never read any thing so confused and involved as that 
book ; whereupon Kepler answers him thus : " If you had not 
thought the book more easily intelligible than it is, you would never 
have found fault with it for being obscure. It requires great labor, 
concentration, care, and special mental effort, before Euclid can be 
understood. * * * You, who in this show youi-self the patron of 
ignorance and vulgarity, may find fault with what you do not under- 
stand ; but to me, who am an investigator into the causes of things, 
the road thereto only opened itself in this tenth book." And in 
another place he says, " By an ignorant decision this tenth book has 
been condemned not to be read ; which, read and understood, may 
reveal the secrets of philosophy." 

Kepler also further attacks Ramus, for not subscribing to the asser- 
tion of Proclus — although it is evidently true — that the ultimate design 
of Euclid's work, toward which all the propositions of all the books 
tend, was the discussion of the five regular bodies.* And Ramus 
has put forth the singularly rash assertion that those five bodies are 
not forthcoming at the end of Euclid's '^ Elements. ^^ And by thus 
destroying the purpose of the work, as one might destroy the form of 
an edifice, there is nothing left except a formless heap of propositions. 

"They seem to think," says Kepler, further, "that Euchd's work 
was called ''Elements ' (tfroij^sla) because it affords a most various 
mass of materials for the treatment of all manner of magnitudes, and 
of such arts as are concerned with magnitudes. But it was rather 
called '■Elements ' from its form ; because each subsequent proposi- 
tion depends upon the preceding one, even to the last proposition of 
the last book, which can not disjtense with any preceding one. Our 
modern constructors treat him as if he were a contractor for wood; 
as if Euclid had written his book to furnish materials to every body 
else, while he alone should go without any house." 

Kepler's estimate differs materially from those first given, in that 
he does not only praise Euclid's skill in building firm and solid 
masonry, but the magnificence of his whole structure, from foundation- 
stone to lidge-pole. But later mathematicians have found fault with 
Proclus and Kepler for bringing into such prominence the five regular 

* Except those which treat of perfect numbers, Proclus says, in his commenlary on the 
first book of Euclid, "Euclid belonged to the Platonic sect, and was familiar with that 
philosophy, and accordingly the whole of his elementary course looked forward to a consid- 
eration of the five 'beautiful bodies ' of Plato." 



J 60 GEOMETRY. 

bodies, and finding in them the ultimate object of Euclid's work. 
Even Montucla and Lorenz do this, although, as we have seen, they 
agree wholly with Kepler and others in finding that the chain of 
propositions in EucHd's ^^ Elements ''^ is a most perfect one, and that 
no proposition is stated which is not based upon a previous one. But 
it would have been impossible for Euclid to construct such a chain, 
had he not at the beginning of it seen clearly through its whole 
arrangement ; had he not, during the first demonstration of the first 
book, had in his eye the last problem of the thirteenth. For no 
architect can lay the first foundation-stone of his building until he 
has clearly worked out his drawings for the whole. 

The most superficial observation will show that Euclid begins with 
the simplest elements, and ends with the mathematical demonstration 
of solid bodies. He commences with defining the point, line, and 
surface ; treats of plane geometry in the first six books, and comes to 
solids only in the eleventh. The first definition in this book, that of 
bodies, follows on after the former three. Lorenz gives us the reason 
why Euclid inserted between plane and solid geometry, that is, be- 
tween the sixth and eleventh books, four other books. " The considera- 
tion of the regular figures and bodies," he says, " presupposes the doc- 
trines laid down in the tenth book on the commensurability and in- 
com_mensurability of magnitudes ; and this again the arithmetical mat- 
ter in the seventh, eighth, and ninth books." 

The five regular solids, in point of beauty, stand altogether by them- 
selves among all bodies ; Plato calls them the " most beautiful bodies." 
We need not therefore wonder at Euclid for taking, as the crown 
of his work, the demonstration of their mathematical nature and of 
their relations to the most perfect of all forms, the sphere. In the 
eighteenth proposition of the thirteenth book, the last of the whole 
work, he demonstrates the problem. To find the sides of the five 
regular bodies, inscribed in a sphere. If this proposition was not 
the intended object, it is at least certainly the keystone of the 
structure. 

Many things show that the demonstration of the five regular bodies, 
and of their relations to the cube, was really the final object of the "Ele- 
ments.'''' The Greeks, from their purely mathematical sense of beauty, 
and remarkable scientific tendencies, admired and studied this select 
pentade of bodies, which played a great part first in the Pythagorean 
and afterward in the Platonic school. But that Euclid, who seems to 
have been instructed by pupils of Plato, followed Pythagoras and 
Plato in this respect, if we are not convinced of it by the ^'' Elements^ 
is clearly enough shown by the quotation given from Proclus, and by 
the following ancient epigram : — 



GEOMETRY. Jgl 

"The five chief solids of Plato, the Samian wise man invented, 
And as Pythagoras found them, so Plato taught us their meaning : 
And Euchd based upon them renown wide-spread and enduring." 

This epigram from Psellus furnishes an indubitable confirmation of 
the views of Proclus and Kepler, respecting the arrangement and 
object of Euclid^s great work. 

I observed that, in former times, to study Euclid was to study geom- 
etry. This will serve as a sufficient apology for the space which I am 
bestowing upon the '•'■Elements''' 

What was it, is the next inquiry, which caused the later mathema-' 
ticians to vary so much from Euclid's course, and to omit whole books 
of his work ? We will allow them to answer for themselves. 

Of the first six books, and the eleventh and twelfth, Montiicla re- 
marks that they contain material which is universally necessary ; and 
are to geometry what the alphabet is to reading and writing. The 
remaining books, he continues, have been considered less useful, since 
arithmetic has assumed a diflerent shape, and since the theory of in- 
commensurable magnitudes, and of the regular bodies, have had but 
few attractions for geometers. They are not however useless for per- 
sons with a real genius for mathematics. For these reasons, both 
Montiicla and Lorenz recommend these five omitted books to mathe- 
maticians by profession. Of the tenth especially, Montiicla says 
that it includes a theory of incommensurable bodies so profound that 
he doubts whether any geometer of our day would dare to follow 
Euclid through the obscure labyrintli. This observation is worth 
comparing with the expressions oi Kejiler and Ramus, above men- 
tioned, on "the same book. 

Of the thirteenth book, which, with the two books of Hypsicles to 
follow it, treats of the regular solids, Montiicla says, '"Notwithstand- 
ing the small value of this book, an editor of Euclid, Foix,* Count de 
Candalle, added three more to it, in which he seems to have endeav- 
ored to discover every thing that could possibly be thought of respect- 
ing the reciprocal relations of the five regular solids. Otherwise, this 
theory of the regular solids may be compared with old mines, which 
are abandoned, because they cost more than they produce. Geome- 
ters will find them at most worth considering as amusement for 
leisure, or as suggestive of some singular prolem." 

What would Kepler have said to this opinion ? 

As soon as we consider Euclid's work otherwise than as a sincrle 

• FrangoJs Foix, Count de Candalle, who died in 1594. ia his ninety-second year. He found- 
ed a mathematical professorship at Bourdeaux, to be held by persons who should discover 
• new property of the five regular solids. The first edition of Candalle's Euclid, with a 16th 
book, appeared in 1566 ; the second, with 17th and 18th books, iu 1578. It is Latin, '■'■Autort 
Frtuie, Flussale Candalla '' 

11 



162 GEOMETRY, 

whole, we see at once a necessity for modeling the eight " universally 
necessary " books into a new manual, of reorganizing it, and accom- 
modating it to a new object. Distinguished mathematicians have 
undertaken such a remodeling, mostly including as many as possible 
of Euclid's propositions, and ev^n of his groups of them, in their 
manuals. But how, it will be asked, can a work, so compactly organ- 
ized as Euclid's, be capable of being taken to pieces, and its disjecta 
membra be arranged into a new manual ? The explanation is as fol- 
lows : — Althojigh Euclid set out from one fixed point to reach another, 
yet he did not proceed in one straight line from one to the other, 
without any divergence. His single propositions, and still more the 
groups of them, have a species of independent existence, such that 
they can be recomposed into new manuals, whose arrangement is 
wholly different from that of Euclid. 

" It is with the fabric of the thoughts 

As it is with a weaver's master-piece ; 

Where one thread governs a thousand threads, 

And the shuttle flies backward and forward, 

And the threads fly unseen hither and thither, 

And one stroke affects a thousand combinations." 

These expressions of Goethe's Mephistopheles are entirely applicable 
to Euclid's master-piece. 

Shall we now reject these good modern manuals, and use in 
our mathematical studies the thirteen original books of the "^7e- 
mentsV Even Kepler, the most thorough-going admirer of 
Euclid, would object to this. He defended and praised the '''■Ele- 
ments " as a magnificent scientific work, but not as a school-book. He 
would never have recommended our gymnasiasts to study the tenth 
book, although he charged the celebrated Ramus with having fallen 
into a grievous error in thinking the book too easy, since it required 
intellectual exertion to understand it. Montucla, although he ex- 
pressed himself strongly against a false, enervating, and unscientific 
mode of teaching mathematics, yet says that geometry must be made 
intelligible, and that many manuals have subserved this end, which 
he has gladly made use of in instructing; and that he would recom- 
mend the exclusive use of Euclid only to those of remarkable math- 
ematical endowments. 

But were Euclid's ^'^ Elements''^ originally a manual for beginners? 
Shall we compare the learned mathematicians who came from all 
countries to Alexandria to finish their studies under Euclid, Eratosthenes, 
or Hipparchus, with gymnasiasts sixteen years old ? The Museum 
at Alexandria was at first, that is in Euclid's time, a mere association 
.of learned men ; and only afterward became an educational institu- 



GEOMETRY. Ig3 

tion * Euclid therefore wrote his ^'■Elements " for men who came to him 
already well experienced in mathematical knowledge and exercises. 
It was because the book was not a school-book that Euclid gave his 
answer to the king who required him to make geometry easier. 

But what was the origin of the book ? 

The reader may perhaps apprehend that this question will lead me 
into historical obscurity, and obscure hypotheses. But there is no 
danger. 

Montiicla says that Euclid, in his book, collected such elementary 
truths of geometry as had been discovered before him. We know, of 
at least some of his problems, that they were known before Euclid ; 
such, for instance, as the Pythagorean problems. But, nevertheless, 
Euclid remains entitled to the credit of having performed a service of in- 
calculable value in the form of the most able and thoroughly artistic 
editing. 

We have already stated the idea which guided him in this task of 
editing; it was to proceed from the simplest elements, by means of 
points, lines, and surfaces, to mathematical bodies, and finally to the 
most beautiful of them, the five regular bodies, and their relations to 
the cube. 

But would geometrical studies, commenced at the very beginning 
on Euclid's principles, have led immediately to an elementary system 
such as his ? Certainly not. If they would, what occasion would 
there be for so much admiration of them, and of calling them Ele- 
ments 2'«»* excellence, and their author " the Elementarist ? ^'' 

No man would ever have begun with a point, a non-existent thing, 
{ens non ens,) and from that proceeded to lines, surfaces, and lastly to 
solids. Solids would rather be the first objects considered ; objects 
of the natural vision, and the pupil would have proceeded by abstract- 
ing from this total idea to the separate consideration of surfaces, 
which bound solids ; lines, which bound surfaces ; and lastly of points, 
which bound lines. 

After having proceeded to this ultimate abstraction, to the very 
elements themselves of the study, Euclid worked out his elementary 
system as a retrograde course; a reconstruction of solids from their 
elements. And this reconstruction could only be effected by the aid 
of precise knowledge and intelligent technical skill; of a full undei- 
standing of the laws and relations of figures, solids, &c. 

Acute Greek intellects, investigating solids and figures, and subject- 
ing them to actual vision, would of course discover many of their 
laws at once, and readily. Others, however, could not be perceived 
by intuition, but could be disclosed to the understanding only at a 

*See Klippel, on the Alexandrian Museum, 114, 228. 



164 GEOMETRY. 

later period.* In examining this cube, for instance, it would appear 
at once that its sides were equilateral and equiangular; and that one 
of its horizontal sides was bounded by four vertical ones. But that 
its edge, diagonal of a side, and axis are to each other as -y/l : -yjl : 
v/ 3 could not be perceived with the bodily eye, but appears by the 
help of the Pythagorean problem. 

The demonstrations, as is sufficiently evident, must have begun with 
such as were concrete, simple, and visible, and proceeded to such 
as were more comprehensive, abstract, and beyond the scope of the 
senses. For instance, the application of the Pythagorean problem 
to all right-angled triangles would scarcely have been undertaken at 
the beginning. But in the case of isosceles right-angled triangle*, 
inspection would show, by a very simple demonstration, that th« 
squares of the sides were together equal to the square of the hy- 
pothenuse.f Tf this were proved, the question was then easily sug- 
gested. Is it true of all right-angled triangles? If a square wera 
divided by a diagonal into two triangles, it was evident that each of 
them contained one right angle and two half right angles, the sum 
of the three being two right angles ; and then the question would 
naturally occur, Is this true of all triangles ? 

In the same manner it would be necessary to proceed from the 
simplest and most regular solids and figures to the more complicated 
and less regular ; from those most easily seen by the eye to the more 
abstract, requiring the use, not of the senses, but of the reason. 
When at last the* most comprehensive demonstration and definition 
had been learned, there would be no further mention of the previous 
concrete cases, which had been an introduction to the study of the 
more abstract ones, but the cases to consider would now be those 
involved in the definition and demonstration last found. 

It has repeatedly been observed that the tpacher of a science must 
adhere to its proper course of development, and must in his instruc- 
tions follow it more or less strictly. Every pupil ought once to follow 
this path, which its first discoverers and investigators worked out after 

* See my "j1 B C-Book of Crystallography," I^A B C-Buchder KrystaUkunde,) pp. IX., 
XI., XXIII., and 164; and Haniisch, ''Manual of the German Common School System," 
(Handbuch iiber das deulsche Volkschulwesens,) 1st ed., 1820, p. 232. 

t The demonstration may be somewhat as follows : — 




ABC, isosceles right-angled triangle. A B D E, the square of its hypothenuse, containa 
eight small triangles, and the squares on its sides together contain also eight, and all of theM 
email triangles are of the same size and shape. 



GEOMETRY. 



165 



SO many and long-enduring errors, but which the present pupils, with 
their teacher's aid, now find out in a shorter time, and with certainty. 
According to these principles, to which I subscribe, I consider it 
natural to begin teaching geometry with treating of solids, with 
which it is highly probable that the actual development of the science 
began ; and to proceed from that point, by abstraction, to the elements. 
It is here that Euclid's method should be adopted, and that we should 
proceed by demonstrations, from the elements up to solids. In the 
former course, it is instruction that leads, and reason silently follows; 
in the latter, the reason speaks, and the intuition must place faith in it. 

Many mathematicians are now agreed that Euclid's demonstrative 
course of instruction should be preceded by an introduction of an 
intuitional character. In the theory of forms brought forward by 
Pestalozzi and his school, in particular, was discovered a preparatory 
course in geometry, in which intuition was the chief actor, as is the 
reason in geometry proper.* 

Still, however, the beginning was not made with solids, but, in 
accordance with a method of elementarizing which was pushed even 
to caricature, with points — unmeasurable, dimensionless points. Lines 
come next, and were taught in innumerable and aimless combinations. 
Lastly, surfaces were discussed ; for of solids Schmid's well-known 
Theory of Form, the predecessor of many more, scarcely spoke at all, 
and what little was said was not worth mentioning.f 

The necessity was afterward felt of beginning ^ith a solid — the 
cube, for instance ; but merely with the design of showing from it the 
process of abstraction by which to proceed from the solid to the point. 
As soon as this had been briefly done, they then commonly proceeded 
to the combination of points, lines, &c., and to other operations, as 
were just alluded to. How important soever this theory of form 
may seem to me, and however much I may honor the intelligence, 
industry, and effort with which this new course of discipline was 
worked out by able pedagogues, still I can not possibly recognize the 
method which they followed as the right one.J 

What I would recommend is, that instruction in geometry should 
begin, not with such a brief analysis of one or another solid into its 
geometrical elements, but with a continued study, at some length, of 
many mathematical solids. And now, if solids are to be both the 
beginning and the end of the elementary study of geometry, the 

•Pan 2, p. 101. 

t Diesterweg " Guide," ( Wegweiser.) Second edition, part 2, p. 188, <fec. 

tl entirely agree with the acute and able judgment passed by Curtmanu on the study of 
Form in common schools, and on Froebel's " eccentric proposal to use geometrical combina- 
tions as a principal amusement for children." See Curtmann's " School and Life," {Die 
Schule und das Leben,) p. 62. 



166 GEOMETRY. 

question naturally comes up, What bodies ? Shall they be those of 
which every stereometry treats — the prism, pyramid, sphere, cone, 
and cylinder ? Shall it be the five regular solids ? 

The opinion of Montucla, already given on this point, might 
perhaps alarm us, even if inclined toward an aflSrmative. He com- 
pares the theory of the five regular bodies to ancient mines, which 
are neglected because they cost more than they produce. " Geome- 
ters," he continues, " will use them at most for a leisure amusement, 
or as suggestive of some singular problem." But such old mining 
works are opened again, and afford great profits ; and the merest 
leisure sometimes is the occasion of solemn earnestness. Of many 
of the solids which the ancient mathematicians constructed, with 
scientific geometrical skill,* the originals have been found in nature 
in our own times ; and, besides these, an innumerable multitude of 
other beautiful forms, in which are revealed laws of which no math- 
ematician ever dreamed. 

It is mineralogy which has opened to us this new geometrical 
world — the world of crystallography. With this I first became 
acquainted, as I have already mentioned, in Werner's school, at Frei- 
berg. When I afterward came to Yverdun, in 1809, and made myself 
acquainted with Schmid's Theory of Forms, this latter appeared 
to me the most uncouth of all possible opposites of crystallo- 
graphy. 

This theory of forms consisted of endless and illimitable combina- 
tions. The object seemed to be to find at how many points a line 
could be intersected ; but no reference was made to the question 
whether the figures resulting from such combinations were beautiful 
or ugly. But, in the absence of a sense of mathematical beauty, 
great caution must be used in approving a course of mathematical 
instruction which consists principally of mathematical intuitions. 
Nothing of any value, as I have mentioned, was said of solids. Every 
thing seemed designed to keep the boys in incessant, intense, and 
even overstrained productive activity, without any care whether the 
product was of any geometrical value. A formal result, it might be 
said, was the chief thing sought. 

But how diametrically opposite was the study of crystallography 
at Freiberg to this unnatural and endless production of mathematical 
misconceptions! It began with a silent ocular investigation of the 
wonderfully beautiful crystals themselves ; works of Him who is the 
"Master of all beauty." A presentiment of unfathomable, divine 
geometry came upon us ; and how great was our pleasure as we grad- 
ually became acquainted with the laws of the various individual forms, 

• Including several of the thirteen Archimedean solids. 



GEOMETRY. 167 

and their relations. Nobody thought of any special formal usefulness 
in his study of crystals; it would have seemed almost a blasphemy 
to us had any one told us to use the crystals for our education. We 
quite forgot ourselves in the profundity and unfathomable wealth ot 
our subject; and this beneficial carelessness seemed to us a much 
greater formal benefit than could have been obtained by any restless 
running and hunting after such a benefit. 

The opposite impressions thus received at Freiberg and \verdun 
are indelibly impressed upon my mind. And I readily admit that 
all my inclinations drew me toward a quiet investigation of God s 
works • an inward life from which my actual knowledge should grad- 
ually grow. In proportion as I have experienced the blessing of this 
peaceful mode of activity, I find an incessant, restless, overstrained 
activity more repulsive to me, and I am frightened at the pedagog- 
ical imperative mood, "Never stand still!" It is to me as if all 
beautiful Sundays and their sacred rest were entirely abrogated, and 
as if I were forced to hasten forward, restlessly and forever, without 
once delaying for peaceful contemplation, though the road should 
lead through the summer of paradise. 
But to return to my subject. 

When, twenty-four years ago, I wrote my -Attempt at an A B t- 
Book of Crystallography^ {Versuch ernes A B C-Buch der Krys- 
tallkunde,) I remembered, while employed on that common ground 
of mathematics and mineralogy, Schmid's Theory of Forms, and 
expressed the hope that a scientific crystallography, proceeding 
according to the laws of nature, might accomplish, in a regular man- 
ner and with a clear purpose, what the theory of forms of Pestalozzi s 
disciples had endeavored to do without regularity or definite purpose. 
I was convinced that such a connection with the subject ot crystals 
must give to the treatment of the theory of forms a character entirely 
new, and entirely opposite to that previously usual. Wherever 
beginners were required to practice this incessant combination and 
production, they would now be employed in becoming familiar with 
natural crystals and models of them. They should not be confined 
exclusively to models, lest they should fall into the error of supposing 
themselves to have to do only with human productions; and of 
imagining that there are no other mathematics except those of man. 
Natural crystals lead the pupil to a much profounder som-ce of math- 
ematical knowledge; to the same source from which Plato, Euclid, 
and Kepler drank.* 

-Ti![-^;^^7;:i^le work on the forms"of grains of pollen shows that among them are several 
matraL.ones;asoet.he..„ste.rahe^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

2:;^^r::r=^i:c;^id;or ^S L...^c. .rms are .un^ a., in the 
mathematical world. 



IQQ GEOMETRY. 

I will here give sorae details to show that proper instruction in 
crystallography will serve the same purpose which was sought by the 
theory of forms. Every solid, I would first say,* fills a certain space, 
and the questions to ask respecting it are, 

1. What is the form of the solid (or of the space which it fills?) 

2. What is its magnitude, (or the magnitude of the space which it 
fills?) 

Similar questions arise respecting limited superficies. If now we 
compare two solids, or two surfaces, they may be either, 

a. Alike in form and magnitude, or congruent ; as, for instance, 
two squares or cubes of equal size. The squares will cover each other, 
the cubes would fill the same mold. 

b. Alike in form but unlike in magnitude, or similar ; as two 
squares or cubes of difl'erent sizes. Of two similar but unequal solids, 
the smaller, A, may be compared with the larger, B, in a decreasing 
proportion. If any line of A equals, for instance, one-half of the 
corresponding line of B, all the other lines of A are to the corres- 
ponding ones of B in the same proportion. 

c. Unlike in form but ahke in magnitude, or equal; as a square 
and a rhomboid of equal base and hight; a square prism and a 
crystal of garnet, where the side of an end of the prism equals the 
short diagonal of one of the rhombic surfaces of the crystal, and a 
side edge of the prism is twice as long as the same diagonal. 

d. Unlike in form and magnitude. 

The theory of form, as its name indicates, is chiefly concerned with 
the forms of bodies and surfaces ; and so is crystallography. The 
latter deals only incidentally with the materials of bodies, and treats 
chiefly of the shape of single crystals, and the comparison of different 
ones, with the design of discovering whether they vary from each 
other or not. 

I was occupied many years with elementary instruction in crystal- 
lography ; and from these labors resulted the ''^Attempt at an A £ 
C-BooJe of Crystallography" which I have already mentioned. 

In the course of this instruction I found by experience how much 
not only older pergons but even boys of ten or twelve are attracted 
by these beautiful mathematical bodies, and how firmly their forms 
were impressed on their minds ; so firmly that the more skillful of 
them could go accurately through the successive modifications of 
related forms, without using any models. 

Any one who has studied elementary crystallography, as an intro 
duction to geometry, will find this course a great assistance to the 
understanding of the ancient Greek geometers. He will not ask, as 

' See my " A B G-Book of Crystallography," p. 162. 



GEOMETRV. IQQ 

the modern mathematicians do, what is the use of investigating the 
regular solids ? And he will find himself much better able to study 
in the method of the ancients ; a method the neglect of which has 
been lamented by Fermat, Newton, and Montiicla, A later writer 
has described this method as one which speaks to the eyes and the 
understanding, by figures and copious demonstrations. And he 
laments that the more recent mathematicians have allowed themselves 
to be carried to a harmful extreme by the extraordinary facility of 
the algebraic analysis. " In fact," he says, " the ancient method had 
certain advantages, which must be conceded to it by any person only 
even moderately acquainted with it. It was always lucid, and en- 
lightened while it convinced; instead of which, the algebraic analysis 
constrains the understanding to assent, without informing it. In the 
ancient method, every step is seen ; and not a single link of the 
connection between the principle and its furthest consequence escapes 
the mind. In the algebraic analysis, on the other hand, all the inter- 
mediate members of the process are in a manner left out; and we 
merely feel convinced in consequence of the adherence to rule which 
we know is observed in the mechanism of the operations in which 
great part of the solution consists."* 

Speaking pedagogically, no one can doubt, after the descriptions 
thus given, whether the geometrical method of the ancients has the 
advantage, in regard to form, over the analytical one of the moderns. 
I have shown elsewhere how harmful it is to give the boys formulas, 
by whose aid they can easily reckon out what they ought to discover 
by actual intuition ; as in the case where a pupil, who scarcely knows 
how many surfaces, edges, and angles a cube has, computes instantly 
by a formula, by a mere subtraction, what is the number of angles 
of a body having 182 sides and 540 edges, without having the least 
actual knowledge of such a body. 

• An instance of the predominance of the analytic method is found in the '■' Mieanique 
Celeste'" of Lagrange, which appeared in 17S8. In this, the author says, " The reader will 
find no drawings in this work. In the method which I have here employed, neither con- 
structions nor any other geometrical nor mechanical appliances are needed ; nothing but 
purely algebraical operations." 



ARITHMETIC. 

[Translated from Raumer's ^^History of Pedagogy," for the American Journal of Education | 



Thk difference between ancient and modern methods of instruction 
is remarkably clear in the case of arithmetic. 

By way of describing the ancient method, I will cite portions of 
one of the oldest and best reputed of German school-books — the 
'■'■Elementa Arithmetices " of George Peurbach.* This author was, 
in his time, the greatest mathematician in Germany ; and one of his 
pupils was the great Regiomontanus.f 

Peurbach's arithmetic began with the consideration of numbers. 
"These," he says, "are divided by mathematicians into three kinds: 
into digits, which are smaller than ten ; articles, (articuli,) which can 
be divided by ten without a remainder; and composite numbers, 
consisting of a digit and an integer. Unity is however no number, 
but the rudiment of all numbers ; it is to number what a point is to 
a line. In arithmetic it is usual, after the manner of the Arabs, who 
first invented it, to work from right to left. Every figure, when 
standing in the first place at the right hand, has its own primitive 
value ; that in the second place has two times its primitive value, in 
the third place a hundred times, in the fourth one thousand times, 
and so on." 

The second chapter is on addition. " To unite several numbers in 
one, write them so that all the figures of the first place (units) shall 
stand under each other, and in like manner of the second place, and 
so on. Having arranged them in this way, draw a line under them, 
and then begin the work at the right hand by adding together all 
the numbers of the right column. The sum resulting from this 

• *^ Elements of Arithmetic. An algorithm of whole numbers, fractions, common rules, and 
proportions. By George Peurbach. All recently edited with remarkable faithfulness and 
diligence. 1536. With preface by Philip Melancthon." (Elementa Arithmetices. Algo- 
rithmus de numeris integris,fractis, regulis communibus,et de proporlionihue. Autore Geor- 
gia Peurbachio. Omnia recens in lucem edita fide et diligentia singidari An. 1536. Cun 
prctfacione Phil. Melanth ) Peurbach was born in 1423, and died 1461. 

t "Thisphilosophy of celestial things was almost born again in Vienna under the auspices of 
Peurbach. This whole department of learning, (astronomy,) after having lain in dishonor 
for centuries, has of late flourished anew in Germany, under the restoring hands of two men, 
Peurbach and Regiomontanus. Their very achievements testify that these two heroes were 
raised up, for the promotion of that branch of learning, by some wonderful power of divine 
appointment." Thig is Melancthon's opinion, as given in his preface to the "5'pA(8ra" of 
Sacro Bosco. Comp. Montiicla, "History of Mathematics," part 3, book 2; also Schubert's 
"Peurbach," &c. 



172 ARITHMETIC. 

addition will be either a unit, or an article, or a composite number. 
If a unit, write it under the line, immediately under the units ; if an 
article, write a cipher* there, and add the number of tens to the 
second column ; if a composite number, write the units under the 
units, and add the tens to the second column. Proceed in the same 
manner with the second column, but do not forget to add in the tens 
resulting from the addition of the first column. When you have 
finished the second column, proceed to the third, fourth, &c. When 
you add up the last column, you can, if the addition gives tens, set 
them down at once." 

The instruction in the other ground rules is given quite in the 
same way; as is the mode of proving examples. For multiplication 
he especially recommends the multiplication table. "If you have 
not thoroughly mastered this," he says, " I assure you that, if you do 
not take pains to learn it, you will make no progress in arithmetic." 

This may suffice to describe the style of Peurbach's arithmetic, 
four hundred years old ; the same method has prevailed even down 
to our own times. It is in this study, as I have said, that the differ- 
ence comes out most clearlj"- between the ancient and modern styles 
of instruction. To show this in a single point, let the reader compare 
Peurbach's recommendation about the multiplication table with an 
expression of Diesterweg's. The latter says, "The ancient teachers 
made the famous multiplication table the basis of all arithmetic. 
They made it the beginning of the study, printed it in the primer, 
and impressed it mechanically upon the children's memories. Nowa- 
days it plays a more subordinate part ; and this single fact may show 
how far we have left the worthy ancients behind us in arithmetical 
instruction. * * * The multiplication table, with us, comes 
after the addition and subtraction tables, and before the division 
table ; that is all."f 

The following observations will state the difference between the 
ancient and modern methods of instruction in arithmetic. 

The object of the ancient method was to enable the children to 

• a/ram or Zyphrain ; others say figura nihili, or circuhis ; as HudaJriclius Regius, in 
his "Epitome Arithm^ticee," (1536.) p. 41. Maximus Planudes (in the 14th century) has 
T^i<l>pa for naught. Fibonacci, a Pisan, wrote in 1202 a " Treatise on the Abacus," ( Tractatus 
de Abaco,) in which he relates that during his travels he learned the Indian art of arithmetic, 
by which with ten figures all luimbers can be written, (Cu;?j his ' ' ' Jiguris, et cum 
signo O, quod Aralnce Zephirum appellalur.) (Whewell, 1, 190.) Lichtenberg (6, 273) says, 
•'Zero (naught) is derived from ey/iAra and ctjpher, Ibe Latin and English for naught; and 
these from the Hebrew sephar, to count." Menage says, "Chifre. — The Spaniards first took 
this word from the .\rabs. It was Zefro." Spaniards change f into h ; hence, Zefro, Zehro, 
Zero. When did the German ZifTer receive its present meaning? 

t In the preface to his " Ilandhuch," Diesterwegsays, however, 'Any one desirous of multi- 
plying larger numbers together in his head must know the multiplication table by heart. 
The inferior grade of computation must be facilitated by this great means of assistance, in 
order to avoid difficulties in the higher grade." This agrees with Peurbach. 



ARITHMETIC. j^S 

add, subtract, &c. ; an art of arithmetic was sought, not an under- 
standing of it, a theory of it. As a foreman shows his apprentice 
how to do his work by categorical imperatives, First do this and then 
do that, without any whys or wherefores, just so was arithmetic 
taught, without any effort on the part of the teacher to communicate 
to the schohir an understanding of the things he did. Nothing was 
thought of except skill in operating, which was gained by much 
practice. This mode of instruction was made more natural by the 
fact that only written arithmetic was taught. 

Pestalozzi and his school opposed this method of instruction, and 
called it mechanical, and unworthy of a thinking being. The child, 
they said, must know what he is doing; and should not merely 
perform operations without any understanding of them, according to 
the teacher's directions. Understanding is the chief object; the 
training of the intellect as a properly human discipline, without any 
relation to future practical life. A few of them claimed that, if the 
scholar acquired nothing but this intelligent knowledge, if it was done 
in the proper methodical way, his practical skill would come of itself; 
that, by the knowing about his art in the proper manner, a man 
becomes a master of it.* 

The ancient method, which kept the pupils at unwearied drilling, 
trained skillful and certain mechanical laborers. The pupils operated 
according to traditional rules, which they did not understand, and 
which even the teachers themselves very likely did not understand, 
any more than the master-mason, when showing an apprentice how 
to make a right angle with a string divided by two knots into lengths 
of three, four, and five feet, can also explain to him the Pythagorean 
problem. 

But although by this method the scholar was excellently well 
prepared for many computations, which he will have occasion for in 
practical life, yet he will be quite at a loss how to hel]) himself when- 
ever a case shall come up to which he can not apply his rule exactly 
as he learned to use it. This will appear when he enters upon 
Algebra ; even in undertaking to use letters instead of figures in his 
much-practiced Rule of Three. Algebra requires every where a 
clear, abstract knowledge of arithmetical operations and relations — a 
just distinguishing between the known and unknown quantities 
which are to be sought or eliminated, and an uiulerstanding of the 
mode of using these in the most varying cases. But all this will be 
entirely wanting to the mere routinist, whose thinking is done by 
traditional rules founded on experience. He would in like manner 

' An error which they suVequently perceived ; and afterward labored at a union of 
knowledge and practical skill. 



174 ARITHMETIC. 

find himself unprovided with an intelligent method of mental arith- 
metic, such as requires independent work by the scholar ; for what 
this school called mental arithmetic was nothing but an inward 
display of figures, and an inward operation performed upon them. 

Three chief adversaries appeared against the ancient mechanical 
arithmetic, of whom I have just mentioned two. 

The first, namely, was Algebra.* This represented special cases 
in a universal way ; and treated special procedures in arithmetic in 
such a manner that the course of the proceeding — the law according 
to which the required quantities were found — was clearly expressed. 
Letters were every where used for numbers — undetermined numbers; 
for any letter might stand for all possible numbers.f 

Thus, in algebra, the understanding and investigating of universal 
relations and laws appeared as opposed to mere computations, practiced 
according to a rule not understood, and aiming only at mechanical 
facility. 

In like manner arose the true method of mental arithmetic, which 
has become so prominent, especially in later and the latest times, in 
the place of the usual operating upon pictures of figures within the 
mind. It was seen that upon this intelligent mental arithmetic must 
be based a right understanding of the mechanical processes of arith- 
metic. This was, among other reasons, because the mental method 
obliged the pupil to perform many operations in an order quite diflfer- 
ent, and even entirely opposed, to that used in written arithmetic. 

The third adversary of the old method of arithmetic was the intui- 
tion so prominently urged by Pestalozzi and his school. While 
algebra took the arithmetical laws out of concrete numbers, and 
established them as ideas, abstractly, Pestalozzi, on the contrary, 
sought for means of that intuitional instruction which must precede 
all reckoning with numbers, and without which that reckoning must 
be without any proper foundation. As algebra developed itself out 
of concrete arithmetic, so was the idea of number itself, again, to be 
deduced from the bodily examination of numerable objects of various 
kinds. " The mother," says Pestalozzi, " should put before the child, 
on the table, peas, pebbles, chips, &c., to count ; and should say, on 
showing him the pea, <fec., not ' This is one,^ but ' This is one pea^ 
&c." And he proceeds to say, "Wh'le the mother is thus teaching 
the child to recognize and name different objects, as peas, pebbles, 
&c., as being one, two, three, &c., it follows, by the method in which 
she shows and names them to the child, that the words one, two, 
three, (fee, remain always the same; while the words pea, pebble, 

* 1 use this word, like Euler, Montiicla, Kries. &c., in its wider sense. 

t Kiies' '^Manual of Pure Mathematics," (Lehrbuch der Reinen Mathematik,") p. 72, &o 



ARITHMETIC. 175 

&c., always change, as the nature of the object changes which is thus 
used ; and by this permanence of the one, and constant change of 
the other, there will be established in the child's mind the abstract 
idea of number ; that is, a definite consciousness of the relations of 
more or fewer, independently of the objects which are set before him 
as being more or fewer."* 

Thus far Pestalozzi adheres to the method in which arithmetic 
had always been begun, in a manner strictly accordant with nature. 
Counting had been taught by beans, &c., and especially on the 
fingers. *' You can count that on your fingers " is an old 
proverb. 

He now, however, proceeds further, to artificial school-apparatus 
for intuition. He and his fellow-teacher, Kriisi, prepared some " intu- 
itional tables " for this purpose. In the first, the numbers from one 
to ten are separated by marks : a I in the upper horizontal row, H 
below it, and so on, down to ten such marks for ten. And 175 
pages were occupied with exercises to be taught upon these marks. 

The second intuitional table is in the form of a square, divided 
into ten times ten small squares. The ten squares in the upper hori- 
zontal row are not divided ; those in the second are halved by a per- 
pendicular line; those of the third are divided into thirds by two 
such lines; and so on, to the last, which is divided into ten parts by 
nine perpendicular lines. 

The second intuitional table is properly fc>llowed by the third in 
the second part of the '''■Intuitional TheoryP It is a large square, 
divided into ten rows of ten small squares. The first of the first hori- 
zontal row is undivided, the second halved by a horizontal line, the 
third divided into three parts by two horizontal lines, and so on to 
the tenth. The ten squares of the first perpendicular row are divided 
in the same way by perpendiciilar lines, and the other squares are 
divided both by perpendicular and horizontal lines, (corresponding 
with a multiplication table,) according to their order, in a perpen- 
dicular and a horizontal row. Thus the hundredth small square, 
diagonally opposite that which is not divided at all, is thus divided 
into ten times the smaller squares, of which each is a thousandth of 
the large one. 

The second table, preceding this, consists of thirty-six pairs of 
parallel lines, equal in length but divided differently. The pair A 
and B, for instance, are divided by points into six equal parts ; but, 
besides this, A is divided into halves and B into thirds ; the former 
into twice three-sixths, and the latter into three times two-sixths. 

* Pestalozzi, preface to part'2 of his "Intuitional Theory of the Relations of Numbera," 
{Anaehauungskhre der Zahlcn-ccrk'altnissi.) 



X76 ARITHMETIC. 

For the method of using these intuitional tables in instruction, I 
refer to Pestalozzi's '■'■Elementary Books^'' and to Von Turk's " Letters 
from Munchen-Buchseer* I shall here only offer a few observations 
on them. 

B}^ means of these tables it was sought to elucidate to the children 
the four ground rules, fractions, and the rule of three, even algebra- 
ically. In particular, every number was considered as composed of 
ones, and was referred to ones as its elementary parts. And this was 
done not only at first to facilitate a clear understanding, but in sub- 
sequent parts of arithmetic, and even to a wearisome extent. Instead 
of seven, "seven times one" was used; and again, "One is the 
seventh part of seven." And thus were composed so many strange, 
wordy problems ; as " Three times half of two, and six times the 
seventh part of seven, are how many times the fourth part of 
faur?"f 

Pestalozzi should undoubtedly have the credit of calling attention, 
by his '■'•Elementary Books^'' to the visual element of arithmetic, which 
had previously been almost entirely neglected in the schools. Since 
that time, this element has been much used for primary instruction, 
and as a means of laying a foundation by the use of the senses for 
subsequent insight. But at present, most of the arithmetics of the 
Pestalozzian school vary much from this excessive use of the senses, 
as is shown by their books of examples. 

It is clear that there are limits to the use of the intuitional facul- 
ties. Pestalozzi exceeded these in various ways ; as in the line 
divided into ninety parts, and a square divided into ninety rectangles, 
which we find in his '■'■Elementary Books.^'' What eye would dis- 
tinguish, in his third table, between the square divided into nine 
times ten rectangles, and that divided into ten times ten, next after it ? 

The necessity of actual intuition at the beginning of arithmetic also 
led Pestalozzi into an error. " When," he says,J " we learn merely 
by rote that three and four are seven, and then proceed upon this 
seven just as if we actually knew that three and four were equal to 
seven, we deceive ourselves, and the inner truth of this seven is not 
in us ; for we have not that foundation in the evidence of our senses 
which only can make the empty word a truth to us." 

But granting that I can inwardly see the picture of the statement 
that 3-|-4 = 7 in marks, peas, &c., can I have the same sort of visible 
basis within me when I would add 59 + 76 = 135; or, rather, 
3567 + 4739 = 8306? Are all such operations as these last then 
destitute of intuition ? that is, are they all actually empty words and 
unintelligent labor ? 

* Pt. 1, p. 16, &c , p 51, &c, t lb., p. 58. I "How Gertrude Teaches her Children." 



ARITHMETIC. 177 

These considerations may enable us to arrive at a correct estimate 
and application of the use of intuition. It is intended to assist the 
work of the understanding, by representations which the eye will easily 
take in and the mind will easily retain ; and to facilitate the compre- 
hension of numbers and their relations to each other, and afterward 
the inetho<.ls of operating in agreement with the ideas thus received. 
If the intuitional powers have fulfilled their task, and if a correct 
understanding has been attained in the small matters at first studied, 
the pupil may boldly proceed to greater numbers — to numbers so 
great that intuition can not deal with them at all. Thus, the 
scholar's intuition on the subject of fractions may carry him, for 
instance, at furthest, to the subdivision of a line into twenty-four equal 
parts, and to their designation in their various different ways, as 
2X12; 3X8; 4x6; 6x4; 8x3; and 12x2. By means of 
such a line as this a clear idea can be fornicd of the mutual relations 
effractions of different denominators; as, for instance, that i^=:-^=: 
^=^—f or that fi^l^, «tc. But the eye is not capable of taking 
in Pestalozzi's line subdivided into ten times ten portions. In this 
case the understanding has to assist the eye much more than the eye 
the understanding. 

We have seen that instruction in arithmetic has always commenced 
with visual intuition, and that Pestalozzi endeavored to erect this 
natural proceeding into a method — a system which should proceed from 
a right beginning to a right end, in a right manner. With this 
design he published his ^'•Elementary Books " and Intuitional Tables. 
And yet, the numerous and even excessive exercises upon these 
tables had really nothing whatever to do with arithmetic. After the 
pupil had completed the whole of these exercises, without even 
knowing the Arabic figures, these last may be made known to him 
"in the usual manner,"* and their value as dependent on their places. 
After this comes operations with figures. 

But my experience has been, that it is precisely for the under- 
standing of these operations that intuition is most necessary. The 
tiresome, inanimate marks of the Pestalozzian tables seem to me 
peculiarly unsuitable for children, who rather require colored or 
shining things, such as will easily impress their fancy. And again, if 
these things are to open the road to operations with figures, they 
must represent not mere units, but must be adapted to the decimal 
system — the system of Arabic figures. I made use of counters; 
which, if properly managed, will afford much assistance. f 

A difference must be made between numbers and figures. The 



Tiirk, 101. f See Appendix III. on this loint 



I^JQ ARITHMETIC. 

same number can be indicated by very different figures; as, for 
instance, 



ne. 


Five. 


Ten. 


Hundred. 


Thousand. 


a 


i 


i 


P 


a 


I 


V 


X 


c 


M 


1 


5 


10 


100 


1000 



To comprehend the wondrous and almost magic power of the so- 
called Arabic figures, it is only necessary to work the same example 
with these and with the Greek or Roman figures.* The example in 
the note is very simple; the difference will appear more evidently 
on trying even a very moderately large example in "long division" 
with the Roman figures. And if there is such a difference even in the 
elementary part of arithmetic, how much greater will it be in more 
complicated work ! 

In later times this written arithmetic, so far from being an object 
of admiration, has, on the contrary, been so violently attacked that 
mental arithmetic has assumed a remarkable predominance over it. 
A teacher wrote a little work, entitled '•'•Head or Thought- Arithmetic ;" 
in which written arithmetic was almost synonymous with " mindless 
arithmetic." This reaction, however, was quite natural. We have 
already seen that in early times pupils were taught only the opera- 
tions with figures ; that they only learned to juggle according to the 
rules given them, and did not even know how they arrived at the 
results of their operations. Schiller objects to certain authors that 
" language did their thinking and wrote their poetry for them." In 
like manner the wonderful decimal system thought for these scholars, 
if not even for their teachers themselves. 

It is at present a source of satisfaction, that by mental arithmetic 
this juggling business is to be brought to an end. And for cer- 
tainty's sake it is strictly forbidden to perform the mental operations 
with the help of imaginary figures, this being really identical with 
written arithmetic. 

But a proper regard should be paid to the latter ; and it should be 
remembered how soon we come to the limits of mental arithmetical 
operations where we become obliged to use figures, letters, or visible 
representatives of some kind. Many persons are inclined to exceed 
these limits, even by force ; and imagine that by the most compli- 
cated examples in mental arithmetic they can develop the scholar's 
capacity to the utmost extent. But a skillful mathematician of 

* (A) (B) 

432)864(2 OCCCXXXn)DCCCXXXXXXIVai 

This Is but a trivial example of the magic of the decimal system ; 100.000 florins are how 
many each to ten men 1 jlni.— 10,000 florins. The fault is our own if we do not admire such 
a system. 



ARITHMETIC. 1 7g 

Berlin has asserted, in contradiction to these, that "mental arith- 
metic is not actually an exercise of the understanding, because it 
requires the use of the memory exclusively." No one can deny this 
statement as to the use of the memory ; nor that those virtuosos, 
who are accustomed to exhibit their skill in mental arithmetic, are 
usually of very trifling capacity in other matters. 

The correct belief is that of those who, like Diesterweg and Stern, 
have opposed not merely the earlier mechanical written arithmetic, 
but have also sought to penetrate the essential principles of the 
mechanism of it, and to make their pupils understand, so that the 
latter might make use of written arithmetic with the same clear 
comprehension as mental arithmetic. 

It was seen that the difference between mental and written arith- 
metic consisted chiefly in the abbreviations which are used in the 
latter. But the pupil readily apprehends the briefer processes of the 
latter, when explained to him in full by the teacher.* For arith- 
metical instruction is concerned with the explanation of abbreviations, 
from the elements up to the infinitesimal calculus ; with marks and 
formulas invented by the most penetrating mathematical minds. To 
the pupil these appear to be mere magic marks and formulas, until 
he is made acquainted with the mode of their production. In the 
higher grades of the study, however, the pupil may be accustomed to 
the purely mechanical use of many algebraical formulas and of loga- 
rithms, in the same way in which the mechanical use of arithmetical 
figures used to be taught. 

The question how far arithmetical instruction should be carried in 
one and another school, is in some cases easy, and in others difficult, 
to answer. 

For elementary schools, Diesterweg was right in saying, " Every 
child should here go so for in arithmetic as to be able to solve readily 
in writing or mentally such problems as he will meet in common 
life." In the common schools there should be no prominent efforts 
after isolated distinction in any department. 

It is much more difficult to fix a limit for arithmetical instruction 
in the burgher schools, because these schools are of very various 
characters, according to circumstances. The general future occupa- 
tion of the children who attend the burgher schools has particularly 
great influence in this respect. 

By examining a large number of school programmes, from various 
parts of Germany, I have found that at present most of the gymnasia 
proceed to about the same extent in mathematical instruction. 

The Prussian ordinance on examinations, of 1834, requires " Thor- 
• For an example see Appendix IV. 



180 ARITHMETIC. 

oughness in the theory of the powers and roots in progressions, and 
also in the elements of algebra and geometry,* plane and solid ; 
knowledge of the theory of combinations and the binomial theorem ; 
facility in managing equations of the first and second degree, and in 
the use of logarithms ; a practiced knowledge of plane trigonometry ; 
and especially a clear comprehension of the connection of all the 
propositions in the whole system of lessons." 

A hundred years before, in a Prussian ordinance of 11 35, no 
methodical knowledge was required, even of gymnasium graduates.f 

On the question whether the gymnasium course should also 
include conic sections and spherical trigonomet}', opinions differ. 
Only the teachers of two gymnasia declare for instruction in the 
infinitesimal calculus, while others are decidedly opposed to it, and 
certainly with entire propriety. Pupils of distinguished mathematical 
talents should follow their mathematical course further, at the uni- 
versity or at the polytechnic school.^ 

There is no study where so urgent a warning is needed against the 
overstimulus of the scholars as in mathematics. It is known that, 
in Pestalozzi's institution, Schmid's influence caused this department 
to occupy a disproportionate space, and pushed every thing else into 
the background. The children were also experimented on ; and were 
encouraged to exercise exhibitions of arithmetical skill, in the same 
manner as injudicious gymnastic instructors quite go beyond the 
limits of their art, and instruct their pupils in rope-dancing, for the 
sake of exhibiting their own skill in the skill of their scholars. To 
teach the infinitesimal calculus in a gymnasium is a similar excess. 

No teacher should ever seek, by excessive stimulation, to spur on 
his pupils to an unnatural point of attainment, which most of them 
can never reach. If a few of them reach the desired summit, they 
usually retain their place on the peak of their intellectual Mont Blanc 
only a very short time, and by the most violent exertions. When 
the teacher ceases his efforts, or they leave school, they throw aside 
the study in disgust; and, according to the fixed law of nature, the 
excitement is succeeded by a relaxation. The teacher should be 
contented and pleased, if his pupils attain to some little excess of 
knowledge, doing so under healthy natural incentives, not too great 

' The ordinance of 1812 prescribed the first six and the eleventh and twelfth bookE of 
Euclid. 

t See Prof. Lentz, in the ^^ Annual Report on the Roycd Frederic- CoUege, at KSnigsberg," 
(Jahresbericht vber das Konigl. Friedricha-KoUegiutn, in Konigsberg ,) 1837. 

+ The mathematical instruction at the schools of arts and trades, and polytechnic schools, 
is meant to determine the future practical ability in mathematics ; that in the gymnasia, 
rather the formal knowledge of it. The former, therefore, requires a higher deeree of skill in 
ijie pupil, which also must be based upon a scientific knowledge. It must cultivate the roots 
cf the study to develop it. 



ARITHMETIC. ]gj 

for their faculties ; if they gain an entirely clear understanding ana 
entire facility in the study up to this point. What has been thus 
acquired is not easily forgotten after the school-years ; and, even if 
he goes no further with that study, he will always retain a certain 
degree of knowledge, which, if his teacher was intelligent and judi- 
cious, can not easily fail hira. 

I can not resist quoting a case given by Diesterweg, to illustrate 
what I have said about excessive stimulation of scholars. In speaking 
of de Laspe, principal of a private institution at Wiesbaden, he calls 
him a natural genius in didactics, who " accomplishes extraordinary 
things by the help of enthusiasm. For," he continues, "is it not 
praiseworthy and instructive, even if on other accounts to be dis- 
approved of, to see girls of twelve occupying themselves, with genuine 
delight, with mathematical constructions, and, without assistance, 
solving problems which any one would admit to be difficult for that 
age. Many instances," Diesterweg continues, " have occurred in de 
Laspe's school, to show with what enthusiasm an energetic teacher can 
fill his scholars. I will relate one. High Mining Councilor K,,* 
during a visit to the institution, at the invitation of de Laspe, gave 
out to the boys and girls a geometrical problem. All, great and 
small, teachers and scholars, went to work on it. No one discovered 
the solution. Thus passed the first day. On the next, all went 
early to work on it again, but in vain. De Laspe endeavored to 
renew the enthusiasm of the school, but no one found out the solu- 
tion. A dull feeling of weariness and despair came over the whole 
institution. Nothing could be accomplished in this way. The honor 
of the institution seemed to be at stake ; de Laspe worked, and begun 
and ended his efforts in bad humor. On the fourteenth day he held 
an evening devotional exercise for encouragement, and prayed that 
God would strengthen him and the members of his institution for the 
solution of the problem. What was the result? At about three in 
the morning, a boy, in his night-clothes, ran to de Laspe's bedside ; he 
had discovered it. De Laspe sprang up and struck a light; the boy 
went through his operation. It was right ! The whole house was 
called together on the instant, and the triumph made known. De 
Laspe was a pedagogical genius." So far Diesterweg. 

But does de Laspe, according to this account, really deserve the 
name of a pedagogical genius ? Does a teacher deserve that name, 
who inspires girls of twelve with a truly unnatural passion for mathe- 
matics ? a man who, when his whole institution has fallen into a dull 
weariness and despair because neither he nor any body else in it can 
solve a problem which a stranger has happened to propose to them, 

• Kramer. See "H. Peelalozzi," by A. D., (A. Diesterweg,) p. 23. 



182 ARITHMETIC. 

makes this foolish despair the subject of an appeal to God at an 
evening-prayer ? And do not the question, " What was the result ? " 
and the answer, that a boy discovered the solution — do not these 
constitute a pietistical statement of a providential answer to prayer? 
The "honor of the institution, which seemed at stake," is rescued, it 
is true; but what honor? So far as this story goes, I can see in de 
Laspe only a restless pedagogical zealot,* who urges his pupils to an 
unnatural mental over-exertion, by especial use of the spur of vanity; 
who makes fanatics of them. No more monitory warning could be 
given of an over-excitement calculated to destroy all childlike char- 
acter. Let the reader only transplant himself in imagination into the 
despairing, brooding, and study — the abominable fourteen days' rest- 
lessness and excitement — of these teachers and poor children, thus 
hunted to the death, as it were, by their own vanity. 

All this seeking ended at last in the Eureka of a boy. But the 
efforts made by the teachers and pupils together show clearly how 
the inventive method ought never to be abused ; or, rather, they 
show no particular method was used here at all. The teacher of a 
science or art ought to know, and be able to do, what his pupils are 
placed under his care to learn ; how otherwise could he teach them ? 
No blind man is calculated to be a guide. 

Diesterweg visited de Laspe in 1817, and accompanied him and 
his pupils in a pedestrian excursion to the Johannisberg in the Rhein- 
gau. In passing through that region, whose beauty, famous from 
ancient times, has attracted to it such a multitude of travelers, to view 
the mighty stream, its vineyards and peaceful towns, with the wooded 
mountain in the background, the reader will fancy how delighted 
teachers and scholars must have been. But he will deceive 
himself. 

They had to take much more care not to get lost while they were 
at work upon some lessons that required their whole attention. Dies- 
terweg relates in particular the following: "In walking, algebraic 
problems were given out and solved, for several hours at a time ; 
scholars as well as teachers proposing them. At evening, at the 
inn, after supper, they 'made language,' to use the technical term; 
that is, de Laspe discussed the laws of language with the pupils for 
several hours, no one showing fatigue or weariness. What would 
our boys say to this ? I must publicly confess that I never saw any 
where so much enjoyment, so much pleasure in independent thinking 
and investigation." 

Such "enjoyment" reminds me of the Dance of Death at Basle. 

* I judge only by this slory, for I know nothing further of de Laspi sufficient to found an 
opinion. 



ARITHMETIC, 183 

NOTE. 

Counters in Elementary Arithmetic— I used white and yellow counters, of 
different sizes. The smallest white ones were units, larger ones tens, and still 
larger ones hundreds. To these I added four yellow sizes ; the smaUest for 
thousands, and larger ones for ten thousands, hundred thousands, and millions. 
I did not immediately go any further.* The units served all the purposes for 
which beans, marks, &c., have been used; as, practice in counting, division into 
equal and unequal parts, &c. 

In teaching written arithmetic, I found the following use of counters very con- 
venient. The children of from six to eight years old usually knew as much about 
money as that, for instance, four pfennigs made a kreuzer, and six kreuzers a 
sechser. I took advantage of this actual experience of theirs to base my instruc- 
tions. After they had learned sufficiently well to count with the unit counters, I 
said, " Just as the large sechser is worth six little kreuzers, so is one larger counter 
worth ten small ones ; so we will call the large one a ten. Then I put with the 
ten nine more ones, successively, and so taught them to count from ten to nine- 
teen ; then I added a tenth one, and changed the ten ones for a second ten, and 
called the two tens twenty. In the same way I went on to ten tens. Now, just 
as ten ones is a ten, so are ten tens a hundred ; which is again represented by a 
larger counter. On these exercises there may be constant exercises ; such as, IIow 
many ones in two, three, &c., tens ? IIow many ones, or tens, in one hundred? 
Then count out ten times ten ones, and then substitute ten tens, to the same 
value. 

By using the counters on the table, the writing and reading of figures will be 
easily learned. It must only be remembered that the ones stand in the first place 
to the right, the tens next, &c. Then two ones may be laid down, then three 
tens, then a hundred, and lastly, at the extreme left, a thousand. Then the pupils 
may be taught to read them off, thus : — Two ; thirty ; thirty-two ; one hundred; 
one hundred and thirty-two; one thousand; one thousand one hundred and 
thirty-two. 

Writing the figures connects itself very naturally with these exercises. Sup- 
posing the children can write the Arabic figures, they may be told that they must 
be written exactly as the countci's lie on the table ; that the first figure to the right 
represents oiies, just as the first counters to the right do ; the next tens, &e. The 
figures should at first be written in the same order in which they are at first ex- 
plained; beginning with the units. t 

It can now easily be made clear what is the use of the cipher in written arith- 
metic. Let the pupil first lay down twenty-one in counters ; two tens and a unit. 
But, ask him how will he express two tens and no unit ? There must be a sign to 
show that there is no unit. I took, for this purpose, small round white pieces of 
pasteboard, which I put wherever there was no figure, whether in the place of 
vinits, tens, hundreds, &c. If it be required to lay down 302, the child placed 
two ones, a cipher for no teas, and three hundreds. 

The orderly placing of the counters, the reading off of the number, an** ihe 
writing of it should proceed together. If there are several pupils, there maj be 
a division of labor ; some laying down counters and others writing, and then each 
reading off the work of the other. 

In this way the children will gain a knowledge of the decimal system, and of 
the profound wisdom with which the ancient Hindoos arranged their figures by 
jt.if But the counters can be further used in explaining the ground-rules, espe- 

* It would be well to have I, 10, 100, lOOO printed on the counters ; and on the other side I, 
X, C, M, according to their value. 

t The Roman letters on the counters can be easily used so as to show the value of a figute. 
one, for instance, in diiTerent places. 

J It was not the Arabs, but the Hindoos— as was already stated— who invented the deciinal 



J 84 ARITHMETIC. 

cially addition and multiplication, Under the columns of counters lay a rule, for 
the line, under which to place the sum. If the units add up to 12, change ten of 
them for a ten, put it with the column of tens, and put the remainder of 2 under 
the units, and so on. When with the aid of the counters the children have 
learned to count, the decimal system, writing and reading figures, and a more or 
less clear knowledge of the four ground-rules, the counters should be gradually 
disused.* They might be afterward used again in explaining decimal fractions. 

Explanation of the Usual Abbreviated Processes in "Written Arithmetic. — 
I will illustrate by a few examples what is said in the text of the means by which 
our teachers may endeavor to explain written multiplication and division. For 
instance, the example in multiplication, 6x11356, may be worked in three differ- 
ent ways, as follows: — 

a. h. e, 

11356(6 11356(6 11356(6 

68136 36 60000 

300 6000 

1800 1800 

6000 300 

60000 36 



68136 68136 

The first, a., is the common abbreviated form; J. and c. give the solution at 
length, as it ought to and must be worked, before the abbreviated mode. For the 
solution of c, we will suppose a case. Six brothers inherit each 11356 florins, 
What is the entire sura ? The multiplicand consists of one ten thousand, one 
thousand, &e., down to six units. Each heir will have one ten thousand, in all 
sixty thousand ; also one thoustmd, in all six thousand ; and so on ; lastly, each 
will receive six units, in all thirty-six. Add these products together, and you 
will have 68136. The example i. is entirely similar to example c, except that 
here the multiplication begins with the units, as in the abbreviated mode. The 
latter will become clear by comparison with h. It will readily be seen that the 
abbreviation consists in this : that the product of each separate place is not written 
down in full ; but that, when for instance the product of the ones furnishes tens, 
they are kept in mind and added to the product of the tens, &c. ; so that the ad- 
ditions in example I. are perfonned in the mind. Thus, 6X6=36=3 tens and 6 
units, which last are put in the units' place in the product. Then, 6X5 tens = 30 
tens, which with 3 tens from tlie first product makes 83 tens, or 3 hundred and 
three ones, which remainder put in the tens' place in the product ; and so on. 

The pupil can thus be shown that the abbreviated operation in example a. must 
begin from the lowest place, so that the overplus from each place may be carried 
to a higher. 

system and the wrongly -named Arabic figures. What other mathematical discovery can be 
compared with thisl See Whewell, 1., 191. 

* In the arithmetics of Diesterweg, Slern, Ac, other modes of making numbers visible are 
used. As to counters, the question is, whether they can be used in scliools for a large num- 
ber of pupils, llerr Ebersberger, of the Altorf Seminary, advises to fit up a large blackboard 
with parallel horizontal ledges or gutters of tin, in which large counters may be set up, as 
letters, Sec, are set up in using the board to teach reading, <S:c. Dr. Mager remarks, in his 
treatise "0« /Ae Method in Malhematics," {Ueber die Method derMathnmafi/c,) that he has 
used counters in leaching. He says, (p. xviii.,) " The second stage brings in the decimal sys- 
tem, first with counters and then with figures. The smallest counters represent units, a larg- 
er size tens, the largest hundred?. It is a pleasure to see how the children can use the count- 
ers to add, multiply, subtract, and divide. When they can work both with counters and men- 
tally, nothing is easier than to work the same problems in figures; the greater convenience 
of the written method induces the children to lee^rn it quickly," 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

Translated from Raumer's "History of Pedagogy," for the American Journal of Education ] 



Physical Education includes, 

1. Care of the health. 

2. Inuring to endurance and want. 

3. Training in doing; in bodily activity. Gymnastics.* 

4. Training of the senses, especially of the eye and ear. 

I. CARE OF THE HEALTH.f 

The realists have paid especial attention to the care of the health ; 
such as Montaigne, Bacon, Locke, and Rousseau, 

At a later period, Ilufeland's '^Art of Preserving Life " has had 
much reputation. Much of what he says relates to people whose 
nerves are disordered l)y overexertion, and is useful for the recovery 
of such. 

Care of health includes, first, diet. The most harmful food had 
become even customary among us, old and young; and it was at a 
late date that we began to examine the operation even of the most 
usual articles of diet. The temperance societies, for instance, have 
come out all at once against brandy, and its numerous family. All 
such measures have influenced the diet of the young, but have not 
had a thorough operation on it. Who does not know how many 
parents now give their young children coffee every day ; and how 
extensively the children drink tea. 

Warnings enough can not be given against the frequenting of the 
stomach-destroying confectionery-shops.J Another fact of the same 
kind is the sight of even boys walking about with tobacco-pipes and 
cigars in their mouths. § 

Clothing. — Rousseau, and the Philanthropinists, his followers, were 
the 6rst who declared war against unsuitable modes of clothing 

* Bacon, in a section on Athletics, says, " Endurance, both of active exertion and of suffer- 
ing. Constituents of active exertion, strength, and quickness ; enduring suffering is either 
patience under indigence or fortitude in pain." (De Augm. Scient., 4, 2, 113.) 

1 1 have already treated of the education of the youngest children. 

t This evil increases in Berlin, every year. In the time of the Turning societies, therefore, 
they and the cake-bakers were utterly at variance. 

§ And have any good re.sults followed from the efforts of the health-police against the sale 
of opium-cigars, for instance, which were openly vended at the Frankfort fair 1 Woe to all 
people who learn to love that poison ! 



186 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

children* The Turners introduced an appropriate, convenient, 
and healthful costume; and endeavored at the same time to op- 
pose the foolish vanity of a change of fashions. I shall say noth- 
ing at all of the fashions as prevailing among women. To appear 
new is always the thing sought after, even if a new mon- 
strosity is the result. The sense of beauty seldom betrays, but 
yet we have seen the hoop-petticoat and the French rococo style 
reappear. 

When shall we cease to make children sleep in deep, stupifying 
feather-beds, and in unventilated chambers ? 

Early to bed and early to rise, says the old proverb. Excessive 
mental labor is harmful to all, especially by night, and is utterly 
destructive to the young, and most of all when drowsiness is kept 
away by coffee, &e. Such a course results in a truly horrible condi- 
tion of overstimulation, in which even a healthy person completely 
loses control over himself. 

The body is a temple of the Holy Spirit. How do those desecrate 
that temple, whose god is their belly ! And it is most fearfully defiled 
and destroyed by the withering secret sins which have made such 
fearful progress amongst our youth. But our educators do little to 
avert the evil — they rather pour oil upon the fire. When, to the 
influence of stimulating drinks, excessive eating, hot feather-beds, we 
add that of provocative dances, plays, and romances, and of those 
indecent pictures which make such deep impressions on the minds of 
the young, and destructively stimulate and entice during waking and 
sleep, who can wonder that such sins gain influence over our youth, 
and destroy them, soul and body ? Do we make serious eflforts to pre- 
vent these influences ? Do we not rather behold them with indift'er- 
ence ; arranging the dances ourselves, taking the children to the 
theaters when Kotzebue's and other loose pieces are acted ? Is it 
not so ■? And does not all the world cry out. Pietism ! if any one 
says a word against this destruction of souls? 

But the question has been asked, almost despairingly, by many, 
How are these secret sins to be prevented ? First, by not giving 
them any assistance by making the young more susceptible to them, 
by rendering them morally and physically weak and corrupt. And, 
second, by positive discipline and strengthening of the body. The 
best protection of all, however, is an education in the fear of God ; a 
means which may avail even when the destruction has gained a 
footing. Those who are corrupted in this way must be managed 
according to their peculiarities. To shameless cowards the truth 
should be told, that their habit is suicide ; and that, if they go on in 

* See the chapter on him. 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 18'7 

it, they have already lived most of their days. The sight of any one 
who has become idiotic by onanism produces a powerful effect on 
boys. There are also, however, cases where it is better to encourage, 
and to give assurances that, upon a cessation of the habit, the body 
will become strong again, though on that condition only. 

Lying goes hand in hand with this devilish secret vice ; and bodily 
and mental filth, and atrophy. 

Lorinser's article "On the protection of health in the schools"* 
directed the eyes of educators to the startling condition of the health 
of the pupils in our gymnasia. It was asked. What are the universal 
sources of the destructive physical condition of the schools, that make 
their pupils die faster than other German youth ? Lorinser answered, 
The evil is based in the number of studies, the hours of instruction, 
and the home labor. 

The number of studies, especially since real studies have made way 
into the gymnasia, has increased since that time. Still, several Prus- 
sian gymnasium programmes indicate that the number of hours of 
instruction was as great formerly as now ; because as much time was 
devoted to their fewer studies as to our more numerous ones. Thus 
the reason of the evil should not be found in the number of hours of 
instruction, unless we answer that the scholars of the present day are 
less capable of study than they were then. Nor should the number 
of studies be blamed, without further examination ; for fewness of 
studies has its evils too. Ratich taught "Only one thing at once. 
Nothing is more injurious to the understanding than to teach many 
things at the same time; it is like cooking pap, soup, meat, milk, and 
fish all in the same kettle, at once. But one thing should be taken 
up in order after another ; and only when one has been properly 
attended to should another be entered upon. A single author should 
be selected for each language, from whom it should be learned. 
When he is thoroughly understood, and as it were quite swallowed 
down, another may be read. Nothing new should be taken up until 
what went before is understood quite thoroughly, and to entire suffi- 
ciency." 

On this it has been remarked, 

" Is this really according to the ' course of nature ? ' Would it be 
natural to eat broth alone, or fish alone, for eight months together, 
and even longer, as Ratich's pupils studied Terence ? Is not a variety 
of reading matter, as in Jacobs' excellent readers, much more suitable 
to it ? Just as we never eat one thing alo ne, but bread with meat, 

♦ This appeared, in 1836, in the " Ber/m Medical Gazette," (.Berliner Medicinisekca 
Zeitung.) 



188 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

for example, it should be the care of the teacher not to clog his pupils 
with one thing forever. And, as the skillful host tries to furnish 
dishes which are suitable to each other, and which by their very con- 
nection shall conduce alike to good flavor and good digestion, so should 
the skillful jiedagogue teach the same pupils, during the same term, 
various things, such as will serve to complete each other, and by 
whose alternation the pupil shall remain fresh, not satiated, but men- 
tally nourished in a healthy way." 

A judicious interchange of studies would be favored even by Lor- 
inser ; but an injudicious one — consisting merely in a restless changing 
from one thing to another, without ever asking whether all these 
single studies will harmonize together, and become one complete 
whole in the boy's mind — such an interchange I shall, of course, not 
need to discuss at all. On that point I agree wholly with Lorinser's 
complaints. 

But the chief reason of the bodily as well as the mental bad con- 
dition of the pupils seems to lie less in the multitude than in the ill- 
contrived method of the doing of the school-work. Many things 
are forced upon the pupils which they do not like ; especially a chilly, 
abstract method of studying language, and an unnatural, over-stimu- 
lated mode of mathematical study and production. Nor is this the 
case at the gymnasium merely ; the evil is still greater in the lower 
schools. And, on the other hand, the pupils are kept away from 
what is appropriate for them, and from what they enjoy. Such a 
perverted method of mental stimulation and over-stimulation must 
necessarily destroy the body as well as the mind. 

The case requires particular attention where each teacher in a 
school is attentive to his own department only, and makes such 
reqirtrements upon the scholars as if they were under his instruction 
only, and had no other work to do. Thus, when the historical teacher 
requires of them to learn the most trifling things, such as innumerable 
dates; the geographical teacher, the smallest towns and rivers, the 
number of inhabitants of unimportant cities; the French teacher, 
the six first books of ^'^Telemaque ;''^ or the Latin teacher, many pages 
of the '■'■Loci Memor tales, ''^ to be committed to memory; when the 
mathematical teacher spurs them forward to the integral calculus, <fec. ; 
in such a case, the conscientious scholar must indeed succumb to the 
burden of "home-labor," or must quite give up conscientious 
work.* 

*Asan instance of the unreasonable conduct of many department-teachers, it may be 
mentioned that, in a certain well known institution, the teacher of mathematics set as much 
home-work to the scholars to do as all the rest of the teachers together. 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. jgg 

11. INUUrNG TO ENDUnANCE AND WANT. 

What has already been said indicates clearly enough that nothing 
is usually done in this direction by parents; but quite the contrary. 
It is usual to enervate the children, to seek to satisfy all their desires. 
Nor should this astonish, in an age when the most fleshly epicurean- 
ism prevails. IIow could strong self-denial and self-command grow 
out of such an idle, pleasure-loving home-life ? These virtues are to 
most persons bitterness and folly. Woe to humanity, when nothing 
is desired except mere undisturbed animal enjoyment, and when all 
nobler aspirations pass for folly ! 

It is difficult to proceed methodically in the more passive portion 
of bodily training. This must be lived rather tha^ taught. Boys in 
the country, who run about out-doors, in the hottest as well as in the 
coldest Aveatlier, in rain and snow, become hardened against wind 
and weather, without their parents or teachers knowing any thing of 
it. But if a child grows up in a great city, where it is probably half 
an hour's walk and more to the nearest city-gate, especial pains must 
be taken to see that he goes into the fresh air every day. For this 
reason gymnastic establishments are an especial need of large cities. 

It is important that the child should become inured to wind and 
weather during the first years of his life. 

Journeys on foot afford the best opportunity for hardening and 
privations of all kinds. Bad weather, bad roads, miserable inns, and 
innumerable other inconveniences, annoy even the most fortunate 
traveler. But all this will be endured, especially in the company of 
companions, not only with patience but with superabundant delight. 
He who makes some sour feces at rain and bad food suffers double. 

It is to be lamented that steamboats and railroads have made such 
a destruction of journeys on foot. Such a flitting across countries is 
entirely useless. It does not strengthen the body ; one who goes in 
one day, by railroad, from Manheim to Basle, seems to himself after- 
ward to have dreamed of an exhibition, where the Rhine and Neckar, 
the Black Forest and the Vo'sges, Heidelberg, Carlsruhe, Strasburg, 
&c., were all passed rapidly before his eyes — all is to him a tmnsitory 
cloud-picture. 

In war, young persons who have been hardened, who are easily 
satisfied, and not corrupted by luxury, are fer superior to their oppo- 
sites. The latter are quite without self-control, and as if without 
their senses or courage, upon being summoned to turn out a little 
early in the morning, especially after having a cold night in th© 
open air. 

lU. TURNING. 

It is well known how highly the Greeks valued gj'mnastics^ and 



190 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

Low the Roman boys practiced bodily exercises as a preparation for 
war. We are equally well acquainted with the bold strength and 
activity of the ancient German nations, and their ehivalric renown in 
the middle ages. As the cities became prominent, the citizens were 
not behind in this respect, and there grew up among them fencing- 
schools for the mechanics, privileged by the emperor.* 

That bodily exercise is an important part of the training of the 
young was a truth recognized by Luther ; but which, since the six- 
teenth century, has been made most prominent by those already 
mentioned as realists. 

Luther says,f '^Lt was right well thought of and ordered by the 
ancients, that the people should exercise themselves, and learn some- 
thing useful and honorable, so that they might not fall into rioting, 
vice, gluttony, drunkenness, and gaming. Therefore these please me 
the best of all — these two exercises and amusements, to wit, music 
and tilting, with fencing, wrestling, &c. ; whereof the first drives 
away care of heart and melancholy thought, and the second gives 
well-proportioned and active limbs to the body, and keeps it in good 
health, by jumping, &c. But the most weighty reason is that people 
may not fall into drunkenness, vice, and gaming, as we see them, sad 
to say, in court and in city, where there is nothing except 'Here's to 
you ! Drink out!' And then they gamble away perhaps a hundred 
florins, or more. Thus it goes, when men despise and neglect such 
honorable exercises and tiltings." 

Luther observes, very correctly, that an active, healthy man, skill- 
ful in his exercises, and who takes pleasure in them, will for that very 
reason energetically withstand the loose and vicious life of mere 
pleasure-seeking, while the sensual at once give up to it. 

Montaigne, the realist forerunner of Rousseau, blames those weak 
parents who can not bring themselves to keep their children on simple 
food, to see them covered with sweat and dust from their exercises, 
riding a spirited horse, receiving a smart thrust in fencing, or a kick 
from the discharge of a gun. "He who desires," he says, "to see 
his son a strong man, must certainly not make him effeminate in his 
youth, and must often set aside the rules of the physician. It is not 
enough to make his mind firm ; his muscles must be made firm too. 
I know well how my own mind is tormented by its companionship 
with so weak a body, which depends so much, and bears so heavily, 
vipon it." J 

Rousseau says, "The body should be strong, that it may obey 

*See Jahn's " Turning System," (Tarnkunat,) p. 278. 
1 Walch, XXII., 2280, 2281. 
J Essays, 1,299—301. 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. jgj 

the soul — a good servant should be strong. The weaker the 
body is, the more it commands ; and the stronger, the more it obeys.* 
A weak body weakens the soul" " If you would develop the under- 
standing of your pupil, develop the powers which his understanding 
is to govern; incessantly train his body. Make him strong and 
healthy, that you may make him wise and intelligent ; make him 
work, run, cry out, always busied about something; let him be a 
man in strength, and then he will be one in reason."f 

We have already seen how these counsels of Rousseau were followed 
in the Dessau Philanthropinum, where they practiced gymnastics, 
and took pedestrian journeys with the boys. Rector Vieth, of Dessau, 
a man of great skill in many bodily exercises, published an '■'^Ency- 
clopedia of Bodily Exercises,^'' [E)icyklopddie dcr Leibesuhungen.) 

But the greatest attainment was made at Salzmann's institution, 
under Guts Muths; who wrote a work on gymnastics, which gained a 
wide influence.^ It was founded upon " Emile^ 

The chief principle of physical education is, according to Guts 
Muths, "Train all the powers of the physical man to the point of 
utmost possible beauty and usefulness of the body, as of the teacher 
and servant of the soul."§ Gymnastics is " a system of exercises for 
the body, intended to perfect it."]] 

Guts Muths, with great care and judgment, worked out this system 
of discipline in the fullest detail ; and at Schnepfenthal there was 
serious earnestness in the department of physical training. The 
children played, not only for the sake of relaxation from the labor of 
the school, but their bodily exercises were made a necessary part of 
their intellectual training, and an indispensable department of instruc- 
tion in the school.^ 

Meierotto, the eminent Berlin rector, erected, in 1790, a roomy 

* Just as Marcellus Palingenius had said : 

" Corpus enim male si valeat, parere nequibit 
Praxeptis animl, magna et prseclara jnbentis." 

1 1 have said more about gymnastics, and errors in " JSmiVe," in my chapter on Rous- 
seau, q. V. 

fGymnasticiJor the Youn^" {Gymnaatik fVr Jugcnd.) By Guts Muths. Second edi- 
tion. Vienna, Doll, 1805. Prof. Klumpp issued a third edition, with many additions. The 
first edition was translated into Danish, English, and French. 

5 Gymn., p. 31. 

I|lb,p 13. 

H I shall hereafter discuss Guts Muths' instructions for the cultivation of the senses. In 
1S17 he published a work on Turning, which set forth the relations between Turning and 
collective exercises. Turning has no more reference than school instruction has to any par- 
ticular class ; but seeks a general development, equally beneficial in any condition of life. 
Turning is to develop the bodily independence of individuals; exercising, to make them 
efficient members of a body. Games, in which a company of Turners put forth free, graceful, 
genera! exertions, are much preferable to a stiff exercise under direction of a subalteri . 
Skillful Turners can very quickly learn the infantry manual. It is very good to teach soldiers 
the Turners' exercises; but it requires instant attention when the Turners begin to play 
Eoldiers. 



192 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

exercising-place, in connection with the Joachirasthal Gymnasium, 
including among other things a swinging-tree; and this may be con- 
sidered a forerunner of the subsequent Turning organizations in 
Berlin. At the repeated request of Meierotto, King Friedrich Wil- 
helm ir, gave 30,000 thalers (about $22,500) toward the purchase 
of the ground.* 

Fichte, in his orations to the German nation, strenuously recom- 
mended bodily exercise, and cited Pestalozzi. He says, "Nor must 
another subject, brought forward by Pestalozzi, be omitted ; namely, 
the cultivation of the bodily activity of the pupil — which should go 
hand in hand with the mental. He requires an A B C of this de- 
partment. His ftost important observations on the subject are as 
follows: 'Striking, carrying, throwing, pushing, drawing, whirling, 
wrestling, swinging, &c., are the simplest bodily exercises. There is 
a natural order of succession from the beginning of these exercises up 
to a complete knowledge of them ; that is, to the highest degree of 
activity, which makes certain the hundred applications of striking, 
pushing, swinging, and throwing, and gives certainty of hand and 
foot' According to these views all depends upon the natural order 
of study ; and it will not suffice to begin blindly and arbitrarily with 
any exercise whatever, and then to assert that we have a physical 
education, as the ancient Greeks had. In this respect every thing is 
yet to be done ; for Pestalozzi did not prepare an A B C of this de- 
partment. But such a one must first be prepared ; and, to do it 
properly, there is needed a man equally at home in the anatomy of the 
human body and in scientific mechanics ; who unites with this knowl- 
edge a high grade of philosophical character, and who is thus fitted 
to bring to a condition of symmetrical perfection the machine which 
we may consider the human body as intended to be ; and so to 
conduct every step in the only possible right course as to prepare 
and facilitate every subsequent one, and thus not only not to endanger 
the health and beauty of the body and the powers of the mind, but 
to strengthen and increase them, and thus to develop this machine 
from every healthy human body. The indispensableness of this de- 
partment, in an education professing to train the entire man, and 
claiming to be especially appropriate for a nation seeking to recover 
and afterward to maintain its independence, needs no further mention 
to be perfectly clear."f Pestalozzi's institution did not accomplish 
what Fichte expected of it in respect to bodily exercise ; but among 
his hearers there was one who was perhaps influenced by these very 

* -^Attempt at an Account of Meierotto's Life," (_Versuch einer Lebensbesehreibung Meit- 
Totlo's.) By Brurin. Berlin, 1S02, p. 312, &c. 

t ''Oration," &c., pp. 171, 172. " Weekly for Human Development," (.Wochenschrift /Hr 
Venschenbilflnng .) Vol. 2, No. 11. 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. I93 

addresses to his distinguished labors for gymnastics ; namely, Freid- 
rich Friesen.* 

Bodily exercises were commenced at Yverdun in 1807; and there 
is an account of the mode pursued, and of the views entertained on 
the subject, in the first volume of Pestalozzi's " Weekly for Human 
DevehpmenVf This account contains much that is correct and well 
worth consideration, and also many errors. It is true that the body 
should not be developed in a partial manner, that is, not for fencing 
or jumping alone ; but that the gymnastics pursued should aim at a 
harmonious total development of the whole. The bodily ill condition 
of manufacturing operatives is also well described.^ ''Manufacturing 
labor," it says, "is undermining the physical strength of our people 
still more than all this. 'Stand up there, boy, at the carding-table; 
girl, sit at the cotton machine, or the embroidering machine; spread 
your colors from morning to night, or turn your wheel, or sew, from 
morning to night ; and I will pay you more than a farmer or his 
wife will earn with their hacking and grubbing.' Thus have our poor 
been addressed, for forty or fifty j-ears; but they did not say. This 
one-sided sort of occupation will make you crip]:)led and sickly. They 
did not say. When the cotton manufacture ceases to prosper, when 
power-looms are invented, when embroidery goes out of fashion, 
you will be left with your distorted hand, your weakened bones, and 
injured digestion, as unfit to learn any other manufacturing as to use 
the bill or the axe. You will live out your old age a worn-out and 
hungry beggar. You will know nothing except what you have 
learned, and you have sacrificed your general strength of body and 
its cultivation to a one-sided and crippling occupation, and to its 
deceptive profits. Examj)les of such destruction have long been 
before our eyes ; but white bread, bacon, wine, brandy, and insinua- 
ting manners make a deeper impression than all these dangeis. And 
every thing that was bad, on the part of the parents, drove the chil- 
dren, even down to the youngest, to these carding-tables and machines. 
Why did these wretehed people make such sicklj' creatures of their 
children ? It was because they shared with them the white bread, and 
bacon, and wine, and brandy that they earned. In many places the 
miserable school-rooms had already prepared the children for the mis- 
erable factory-rooms. The parents took them out of the former and 
drove them into the latter, where they would at least earn them 
something to eat. Thus the number of sickly people increased in 
the land to thousands. But now they no longer receive their wages,, 

*See the extracts below, from Jahn's preface to ttie "'Turning System." 
t Nos. 3—6, from 3d June, 1807, onward, pp. 33—87. 
J U)., pp. 49, 50. 



194 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

or their white bread and bacon : but these miseries %f the land have 
resulted in this ; that our people and their physical condition, in many- 
places, need, more than elsewhere in Europe, the assistance of a 
wise government, and of the power of the human heart, which 
is now reasserting itself, against the consequences of this man- 
ufacturing sel6shness, and their depth of physical degradation and 
weakness." 

But the higher classes had become hardened, and had lost all nat- 
ural sensibility and sympathy.* " But it is not the only evil," the 
article continues, " that innumerable numbers of our poor are fallen 
into a condition in which they look more like ghosts than like men. 
The consequence of these errors, as to what we physically need and 
should be, have introduced, even into the minds of our wealthy and 
healthy people, an absurdity and weakness which is shown by singu- 
lar peculiarities. In many places, if you would be reckoned among 
the honorable and respectable part of the community, you must not, 
even in the hottest weather, take off your coat and carry it on a stick 
or on your arm. And your children must, all summer, wear stock- 
ings, and have a cap on their heads ; must not climb trees, nor jump 
over ditches, &c. And, in the same places, the most unreasonable 
stiffness of etiquette has arisen from these notions of maintaining re- 
spectability. You must not cut wood before your door, even if you 
might escape a fever by doing so. The physical degradation, which 
reached its hight by means of the cotton and silk manufactures, had 
commenced before, in the age of universal perukes and small swords. 
This was the period which laid the real foundation of our physical 
troubles, in high and low ranks." And the discontinuance of the popu- 
lar festivals is justly stated to have aided in producing this unhealthy 
physical condition. The article says,f " A new and arbitrary and un- 
intelligent police interferes with all the pleasures of the young. The 
national festivals, which expressed the powerful ancient popular spirit, 
began to be disused ; they were gradually driven away from our 
plains, and forced back among the mountains. And even among 
those bights they became degraded. They are no longer an expres- 
sion of the strength of the people, a means of elevating and distin- 
guishing the strong men of the land, or objects of popular attention 
and confidence. They sank down to mere paid exhibitions for stran- 
gers looking for exhibitions of skill, and for the rich who paid largely 
for them. And if we should to day endeavor to renew them, without 
renewing our people themselves, they would still not have their an- 
cient appearance. They would be unworthy of our ancestors ; but for 
us, as we are, satisfying, entertaining, and misleading to our wish." 

• lb., pp. 50, 51. t lb. p. 51. 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. J 95 

* * * "It is such a bodily training as the children of oiu ancestors 
had and enjoyed that must be given to our children ; and the spirit of 
their popular gymnastics must be raised up again. But this is no 
partial spirit ; it submits to no influence from the popular festivals. 
On the contrary, these, if genuine, are only the expression of the prev- 
alence of it. It must be just as universally active and visible in 
households, in schools, in the labor of the field, in Sunday sports, and 
in amusements, as on the Alps, and at the shepherd's festivals. It 
must appear in the opinions of the people respecting their corporeal 
necessities, and in their care for them. The attainment of this ob- 
ject is entirely impossible, unless there is awakened in the young, 
from childhood up, and made universal, a lofty, active, and inde- 
pendent sense of power ; and this will inspire the child, of itself, to 
all which is desirable for the salvation of the fatherland." 

Who would not subscribe to these views of Pestalozzi's ? But who 
can approve of the method of teaching gymnastics in his institution * 
The same article goes on to say,* " The essence of elementary gym- 
nastics consists in nothing else than a series of exercises for the joints, 
by which is learned, from step to step, all that the child can learn 
with respect to the structure and movements of his body, and its ar- 
ticulations." And again,f " He can acquire this knowledge in the 
quickest and easiest way by means of these questions. What motions 
can I make with each separate limb of my body, and with each sep- 
arate joint of it? In what directions can these movements be made, 
and in what circumstances and positions ? How can the movements 
of several limbs and several joints be combined together ? " 

Would it not be imagined that this was a system of gymnastics 
for jointed dolls ? The objects of it have joints, and nothing but 
joints ; and what is sought is, to find what their joints will do, not 
what their flexibility of body will do. 

There now follow some methodical exercises ; not of the body, but 
of the joints. A, movements of the joints of the head; B, of the 
body; C, of the arms; D, of the legs. Each separate joint is first 
to be exercised by itself, and then in connection with limbs whose 
joints have already been exercised. No joint is omitted ; in the 
arras, for instance, are exercised the elbow-joint, the wrist, and the 
finger-joints. Of the last he says, " Here also the connection and 
separation of the movements must receive special attention." 

In short, we find in the gymnastics of the Pestalozzian school, as 
in their other educational departments, an unreasonable share of ele- 
mentarizing ; in the present case even reaching an obvious degree of 

•lb., p. 64. tib., p. 69. 



196 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

caricature, at which an indifferent spectator might laugh, but at which 
the weary, overdrilled children would probably cry * 

We now come to a man better fitted than any of his predecessors 
to lay out a new course for bodily exercises, and who did actually lay 
out such a course. This was Friedrich Ludwig Jahn. 

In his work, "TAe German Turning System,'''' {Die Deutsche Turn- 
kunst,)\ he gives a history of his undertaking. This is so peculiar, 
and so characteristic of this remarkable man, and liis useful labors, 
that I shall give the following extracts from it : — 

" Like many other things in this world, the German Turning sys- 
tem had a small and insignificant beginning. In the end of the year 
1809 I went to Berlin, to see the entry of the king. At that cele- 
bration a star of hope arose upon me ; and, after many errors and 
wanderings, I became established here. Love to my fatherland, and 
my own inclinations, now made me a teacher of youth, as I had often 
been before. At about the same time I printed my ' German Na- 
tionality,^ [Deutsches Volksthum.) 

" During the beautiful spring of 1810, a few of my pupils began to 
go out with me into the woods and fields on the holiday afternoons 
of Wednesday and Saturday, and the habit became confirmed. Their 
number increased, and we had various youthful sports and exercises. 
Thus we went on until the dog-days, when the number was very 
large, but very soon fell off again. But there was left a select num- 
ber, a nucleus, who held together even during the winter, with whom 
the first Turning-ground was opened, in the spring of 1811, in the 
Hasenheide. 

"At the present time, many exercises are practiced in company, in 
open air, and before the eyes of all, under the name of Turning. But 
then the names Turning system, Turning, Turner, Turning-ground, 
and the like, came up all at once, and gave occasion for much excite- 
ment, scandal, and authorship. The subject was discussed even in the 
French daily papers. And even here, in our own country, it was at 
first said. The ancient German ways have brought forth a new folly. 
But that was not all. Unfavorable opinions sprang up, from time to 
time, as nuraei'ous as the sands of the sea. They had never any rea- 
sonable ground, and it was laughable to see how they opposed with 
words that whose works were speaking so plainly, 

" During the winter we studied whatever could be got on the sub- 
ject. And we reflect with gratitude upon our predecessors, Vieth and 

* This system of gymnastics teaches the exercising of every joint of the body, just as the 
" Book for Mothers " teaches the knowledge of them. 

1 Ja,hn published this work, in connection with Eiselen, at Berlin, in 1816. Its motto was, 
'Tliearfs are easily lost, but are only found again with difficulty, and after a long time."— 
ttbrec/U Hvrcr. 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 197 

Guts Muths. The stronger and more experienced of ray pupils, 
among whom was my present assistant and fellow-laborer, Ernst Eise- 
len, made a very skillful use of their writings ; and were able, during 
the next summer, to labor as instructors in Turning. Among those 
who then devoted themselves esj^ecially to swinging exercises, and 
afterward assisted in the fvill and artistic development of them, and 
even became thorough masters in them, were Pischon and Zenker, 
who fell, on the 13th of September, 1813, at the Gohrde. 

"In the summer of 1812, both the Turning-ground and system of 
exercises were enlarged. They became more varied, from Turning- 
day to Turning-day; and were mutually developed by the pupils, in 
their friendly contests of youthful emulation. It is impossible to say 
in detail who first discovered, tried, investigated, proved, and com- 
pleted one or another exercise. From the veiy beginning, the Turn- 
ing system has shown great community of spirit, patriotic feeling, per- 
severance, and self-denial. Every extension or development of it was 
used for the common good. And such is still the case. Professional 
envy, the absurd vice of selfishness, meanness, and despair, can be 
charged to no Turner. August Thaer, the youngest brother of a 
Turning-group of three, at that time invented sixty exeicises on the 
horizontal pole, which he afterward increased to a hundred and thirty- 
two. While Thaer was taking care of a sick brother in the field, 
during the war, the same epidemic carried him off, in 1814, of which 
his brother recovered. He had before that time assisted in the estab- 
lishment of a Turning-ground at Wriezen, on the Oder. Toward the 
end of the summer exercises of 1812, a soft of association of Turn- 
ers w?LS formed, for the purpose of the scientific investigation and 
artistic organization of the Turning system in the most useful and 
generally-applicable manner. This lasted during the whole of that 
winter in which the French were frozen up, during their flight from 
Moscow. In this association, the place of manager was, according to 
my wish, filled by Friedrich Friesen, of Magdeburg, who had devoted 
himself especially to architecture, natural science, the fine arts, and 
education ; who had studied industriously under Fichte, and in old 
German with Hagen ; but also, above all, knew what the fatherland 
needed. He was then employed in the teachers' and educational in- 
stitution of Dr. Plamann, which, though not of great reputation, has 
educated able teachers for the fatherland. Friesen was a handsome 
man, in the fullness of youth and beauty, perfect in soul and body, 
innocent and wise, and eloquent a« a seer ; a veiy Siegfried, full of 
gifts and grace, and beloved alike by old and young; a master of the 
broadsword — quick, bold, firm, sure, strong, and unwearied, after his 
haod had closed upon the hilt; a strong swimmer — for whom no 



198 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

German river was too broad or angry ; a skillful rider on any kind 
of saddle ; and an ingenious practitioner in Turning, which owes much 
to him. He had no hesitation in advocating, in his free fatherland, 
whatever his soul believed. He fell by French treachery, in a dark 
winter night, on the Ardennes, by the shot of an assassin. No mortal 
blade would have conquered him in battle. There was none to love 
him and none to sorrow over him ; but as Scharnhorst has remained 
among the old, so has Friesen among the young, the greatest of all. 

"On the king's proclamation of February 3d, 1813, all the Turners 
capable of bearing arms entered the field. After long persuasion, I 
succeeded, at Breslau, in inducing Ernst Eiselen, one of my oldest 
pupils, to take charge of the Turning institution during the war. 
Still, it was after a hard conflict with himself that he remained at 
home, although doctors and soldiers alike represented to him, and his 
own experience daily proved, that, in consequence of a long previous 
illness, and bad medical treatment, the hardships of the war must 
necessarily be too much for him. I myself accompanied Eiselen from 
Breslau to Berlin, at the time \vhen the Prussian army commenced 
its march, and the capital was already freed from the French ; and 
introduced him to the authorities and the principals of schools, who 
promised him all manner of co-operation, and who have ever since 
shown confidence in him. Since that time, Eiselen has been at the 
head of the Turning institution during the summers of 1813 and 
1814, and the intervening winter, and has conducted the exercises of 
those who were too young to carry arnis. 

" At the end of July, 1814, I returned to Berlin, and passed the 
rest of the summer and the first part of the winter in laboring indus- 
triously for the improvement of the Turning-ground. During the 
autumn, I had erected a climbing-pole, sixty feet high ; a useful and 
necessary apparatus for climbing, and, in a level country, indispens- 
able for training the eye to long distances. In winter, when the vol- 
unteers returned, bringing many Turners with them, the associated 
discussions upon the Turning system were renewed. The exercises of 
all the summer were considered and discussed, and the subject eluci- 
dated by argument. 

" On the escape and return of Napoleon, all the Turners able to bear 
arms volunteered again for the field ; only two who had fought dur- 
ing the campaigns of 1813 and 1814 remaining at home, from the 
consequences of those campaigns. The younger ones, who remained 
behind, now took hold of the work again, with renewed zeal. Dur- 
ing the spring and summer of 1815, the Turning-ground received 
still further improvements and enlargements. 

" In the following autumn and early part of winter, the Turning sj^ 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 199 

tern was again made the subject of associated investigation. After 
the subject had been ripely considered and investigated in the Turn- 
ing council, and opinions had been compared, experience cited, and 
views corrected, a beginning was made in collecting in one whole all 
the results of earlier and later labors on the subject, and all the sepa- 
rate fragments and contributions relative to it; a labor which has 
lastly been revised by ray own pen. 

" Although it was only one architect who at first drew the plan, yet 
master, associates, pupils, and workmen have all labored faithfully and 
honestly upon the structure, and have all contributed their shares to 
it. These shares can not now be separated again. Nor shall I be so 
unreasonable as to praise the living to their faces. 

" This is a brief account of my work, my words, and my book. Nei- 
ther of the three is perfect ; but the book may serve to promote a 
recognition of its ideal. It is put forth only by way of rendering an 
account to the fatherland of what we have done and endeavored. 

"This information will be welcome to many educators and teachers, 
friends of youth and respectable people, who know well what are the 
needs of the fatherland. And our former pupils, scattered through- 
out all ranks of civil life, will gladly hear an account of the present 
state of the system. From all sides have come repeated requests for 
a work on Turning. To this desire we have responded in writing as 
well as the circumstances and our own abilities would permit. We 
have held an active correspondence, even to the distance of beyond 
the Rhine and the Vistula. We have sent copies of portions of the 
third section to all who applied for them. The increasing diffusion of 
the system, and of improvements in it, are so rapid that it is impos- 
sible for the work to be perfectly complete in it. It was impossible 
for us to remain indifferent to the fact that the German Turning sys- 
tem, developed and brought out with so much labor, would receive 
injury from any half-knowledge, careless writing, or half-done work. 
From mere hearsay and looking on one can no more write on Turn- 
ing than the blind on colors." 

With the Turning system came up a peculiar language. This 
must be understood by any one who intends to acquire a full knowl- 
edge of Jahn and his system. He says, in speaking of it : — 

" In science or art, the German language will never leave those who 
know and admire it in difficulty. The proper words will never be 
found wanting in it to express all degrees and all results. It will 
keep step with the real course of development, will be found sufficient 
for every new phase of our people, for every occasion of life, and will 
keep up with every advance of our people in refinement. But it 
must avoid the affectation of cosmopolitan folly. No single language 



200 PHYSICAL EDUCATTON. 

has any thing to do with cosmopoUtanisin ; its soul is the character- 
istic life of that one people. 

" Any one setting about a new enterprise is not so much inclined to 
ask, Has any one ever attempted this before, or begun or finished the 
like ? The question is. Ought this thing to be done ? And the same 
is true of one who makes words. If he has proper regard for the 
fundamental laws of language, he is not open to blame. No carping 
critic is entitled to ask. Did any one ever say that before ? The ques- 
tion is. Ought this expression to be used ? Can not a better one be 
found ? For every living language advances, with an irresistible 
movement ; and grammarians and dictionaries come along in its track 
behind, judging of it. 

"The maker of technical words ought to be an interpreter of the 
spiiit which permanently governs the whole language. For this rea- 
son he must look back to the primitive times of the language, and 
must follow in the true path of its course of development. If, in 
investigating these original sources, he discovers any early -forgotten 
word, he should bring this into public notice and use again. To re- 
produce an ancient word, apparently dead, is a real increase and 
strengthening of the language. No word should be considered dead, 
while the language is not dead ; nor obsolete, as long as the language 
retains its youthful strength. Buried roots, which are still alive, and 
can throw out a vigorous growth of new stems, twigs, and leaves, 
bring blessing and prosperity. The shoots and sprouts of the old 
roots proclaim a new spring, after the long cold of winter. Thus the 
language will free itself from botching and patchwork, and will again 
becorpe pure and strong. Without such protection of its original 
roots, the language will become overburdened, like a baggage-horse 
or beast of burthen, and must at last succumb under its heavy load 
of unsuitable additions. Every ancient word brought into use anew 
is an abundant fountain, which feeds the navigable rivers, digs deeper 
the mountain-valley, and indicates the coming of the floods. The 
word ' Turn'' may .serve as an example. From this word have been 
formed, and are now in use, turnen, mitturnen, vorturnen, einturnen', 
wettnrnen ; Turner, Mitturner, Vorturner, turnerisch ; turnlustig, turn- 
fertig, turnmude, turnfaul, turnreif, turnstark ; Turnkunst, Turnkunstler, 
turnkunstlorisoh ; Turnkunde, Turnlehre, Turngeschichte, Turnanstalt ; 
^nd many others," 

This preface is followed by a valuable and clear description of the 
separate Turning exercises, and of the games practiced ; and instruc- 
tions on the establishment and organization of a Turning-ground. 

After these come valuable general information and instruction on 
Turning institutions, tcaehers, &c. If the proverb is ever true, it is 



PnrSlCAL EDUCATION. 201 

true of Jahn, that the style is the man. Whoever would character- 
ize him, must do it by giving matter from his works, in his own 
words. Accordingly, I give the following extracts from him : — 

"The Turning system would re-establish the lost symmetry of hu- 
man development ; would connect a proper bodily training with mere 
exclusive intellectual cultivation ; would supply the proper counteract- 
ing influence to the prevailing ovei'-refinement ; and would comprehend 
and influence the whole man, by means of a social mode of living 
for the young. 

" As long as men here below have a body, and while a corporeal life 
is necessary to their earthly existence — which, if without strength and 
capacity, endurance and power of continued exertion, skill, and adapt- 
ability, becomes a mere inefficient shadow — so long must the Turning 
system be an important department of human education. It is in- 
comprehensible how this art — so useful for health and life, a protec- 
tion, a shield, and a preparation for war — should have been so long 
neglected. But these sins of an earlier rude and thoughtless time 
have now been more or less visited upon every man. And thus the 
Turning system is a subject of universal human interest, and is im- 
portant every where, where moital men live upon the earth. But 
still its special form and discipline must be peculiarly subject to the 
requirements of national and popular character. It must assume such 
a form as is given it by the time and the people ; by the influences of 
climate, locality, country, and nation. It is intimately connected with 
people and fatherland ; and must remain in the closest connection 
with them. Nor can it prosper except among an independent people ; 
it is appropriate only to freemen. A slave's body is a constraint* and 
a prison to a human soul. 

" Every Turning institution is a place for exercising the bodily pow- 
ers, a school of industry in manly activity, a place of chivalrous con- 
test, an aid to education, a protection to the health, and a public 
benefit. It is constantly and interchangeably a place of teaching and 
of learning. In an unbroken circle, follow constantly after each other 
direction, exemplification, instruction, independent investigation, prac- 
tice, emulation, and further instruction. Thus the Turners learn their 
occupation, not from hearsay, nor from following after some transient 
expression. They have lived in and with their work ; have investi- 
gated it, proved it, demonstrated it, experienced it, and perfected it. 
It awakens all the dormant powers, and secures a self-confidence and 
readiness which are never found at a loss. The powers grow only 
slowly ; the strength increases gradually ; activity is gained by little 
and little ; a difficult feat is often attempted in vain, until it is at last 
attained by harder labor, greater effort, and unwearied industry. 



202 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

Thus the will is brought past the wrong path of obstinacy, to the 
habit of perseverance, in which is based all success. We carry a di- 
vine consciousness in the breast, when we realize that we can do 
whatever we choose, if we only will. To see what others have at 
last found possible, arouses the pleasant hope of also accomplishing 
the same. In the Turning association, boldness is at home. Where 
others are exercising in emulation with us, all exertion is easy, all 
labor is pleasure. Each at the same time strengthens the others by 
his labor, and con6rms his own powers, and encourages and elevates 
himself. Thus the example of each becomes a model for the rest, 
and accomplishes more than a thousand lessons. No real deed was 
ever without result. 

" The director of a Turning institution undertakes a high duty ; 
and should approve himself thoroughly whether he is competent to 
so important an office. He must cherish and protect the simplicity 
of the young, that it may not be injured by untimely precocity. The 
youthful heart will be more open to him than to any one else. He 
will see, -without concealment, the thoughts and feelings of the young, 
their wishes and tendencies, their impulses and passions, all the 
morning-dreams of youthful life. He stands nearest to the young; 
and therefore should be their guardian and counselor, their protection 
and support, and their adviser for future life. Future men are 
intrusted to his care ; future pillars of the state, lights of the church, 
ornaments of the fatherland. He must be subservient to no tempo- 
rary spirit of the age, nor to the condition of the great world, so often 
plunged in error. He who is not thoroughly penetrated with a 
childlike spirit, and national feelings, should never take charge of a 
Turning institution. It is a holy work and life. 

" His reward will consist merely in the consciousness of having per- 
formed his duty. Old age comes more slowly upon us among the 
sports of the young. Even in the worst of times we can keep our 
faith, love, and hope when we see the fatherland renewing itself in 
the growth of the young. The teacher of Turning must abstain from 
pretenses ; for every juggler can better deceive the outer world than 
he can. 

" Good morals must be more implicitly the rule of action in the 
Turning-ground than even wise laws elsewhere. The highest pen- 
alty inflicted must always be exclusion from the Turning association. 

" It can not be too often nor too deeply impressed upon the mind 
of every Turner, who lives such a life as he ought and who show? 
himself an able man, that no one is under heavier obligations than 
he to hve a noble life, both in body and in mind. Least of all should 
he claim to be free from any requirement of virtue, because Ua is 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 203 

strong of body. Virtuous and accomplished, pure and active, chaste 
and bold, truthful and warlike, should be his rules of action.* Bold, 
free, joyous, and pious is the realm of tlie Turner. The universal 
code of the moral law is his rule of conduct. To dishonor another 
would disgrace him. To become a model, an example, is what he 
should strive after. His chief lessons are these : To seek the utmost 
symmetry in development and cultivation ; to be industrious ; to 
learn thoroughly ; to intermeddle with nothing unmanly ; to permit 
himself to be enticed by no seductions of pleasure, dissipation, or 
amusement, such as are unsuitable for the young. And such admo- 
nitions and warnings should be given in such terms as to insure a 
school of virtue from becoming one of. vice. 

" But, again, it should not be concealed, that the highest and holiest 
duty of a German boy or German youth is to become and to remain a 
German man ; that he may be able to labor efficiently for his people 
and his fatherland, and with credit to his ancestors, the. rescuers of 
the world. Secret youthful sins will thus best be avoided by setting 
before the young, as the object of attainment, growth into good men. 
The waste of the powers and years of youth in enervating amuse- 
ments, animal riot, burning lust, and beastly debauchery, will cease as 
soon as the young recognize the idea of the feelings of manly life. 
But all education is useless and idle, which leaves the pupil to disap- 
pear, like a will-o'-the-wisp, in the waste folly of a fancied cosmopoli- 
tanism, and does not confirm him in patriotic feeling. And thus, 
even in the worst period of the French domination, love of king .and 
fatherland were preached to, and impressed upon, the youths of the 
Turning association. Any one who does any thing foolish or insult- 
ing to the German manners or language, in words or actions, either 
privately or publicly, should first be admonished, then warned, and, 
if he does not then cease his un-German actions, he should be driven 
away from the Turning-ground, in the sight of all men. No one 
ought to enter a Turning association who is knowingly a perverter of 
German nationality, and praises, loves, promotes, or defends foreign 
manners. 

" With such principles did the Turning societies strengthen, train, 
arm, encourage, and man themselves for the fatherland, in the gloomy, 
sultry times of the devil. Nor did faith, love, or hope desert them 
for a moment. ' God deserts no German ! ' has always been their 
motto. In war, none of them staid at home, exc«pf those too young 
and too weak — and they were not idle. The Turning institution, in 
those three years, oftered up costly sacrifices ; they lie upon the 
battle-fields, from the gates of Berlin even to the hostile capital." 

_ * These couples are alliterative iu the original.— TYnws. 



204 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

It is difficult to select portions from Jahn's book for the purpose of 
describing hira and bis work, for all is characteristic; the book and 
author are cast in one mold* Its work is, in the fullest sense of the 
words, what it purports to be — a German Turning system, in which a 
system of gymnastic exercises, complete within itself, is set forth with 
sound judgment, vivid style, and correct tact. It is not a wearisome, 
methodical, elementary joint-gymnastics for dolls ; nor does it treat 
exclusively of bodily exercises, but discusses with great earnestness the 
moral atmosphere of the Turning organization. 

The Turning system soon spread from Berlin throughout Northern 
Germany, and a large part of Southern Germany. Turning excur- 
sions had much influence in producing this result. Next to Berlin, 
Breslau had the largest number of Turners— some eight hundred. 
At that city, students. Catholic and Protestant seminary pupils, the 
pupils of four gymnasia, officers and professors, frequented the Turn- 
ing-ground. At their head were Harnisch and Massmann ; while 
Director Monnich (of Ilofwyl) and Wolfgang Menzel, then students, 
were among the assistant teachers. Singing flourished. On Wed- 
nesday and Saturday afternoons, after exercising from three to seven, 
the whole company returned singing to the city. The first half of 
the four hours, Turning exercises was there used in the drill, and the 
other half in the other exercises, especially games ; an arrangement 
which is better than to begin with the more inspiriting portion of the 
exercises, and to end with the more serious and laborious drill. 

Jahn's judicious distinction between the Turning school and Turn- 
ing exercises is one that might well be introduced in other subjects. 

For instance, in teaching singing, the first half of the lesson might 
be occupied in singing the scale, &c., and the other half with singing 
songs, &c., which he had learned before. 

We very often hear much said, at the present day, of the opposi- 
tion between an artificial organization and a human development. On 
this subject the mistaken ojiinion often prevails that the intelligent, 
efficient human will is, as a matter of course, counteracted by the 
course of liistorical development. But this is not the case ; the 
question is only. Whether that will was in harmony with the devel- 
opment and tendency of the people, or not. If not, it is true that its 
only result is a vain endeavor to effect something. This was the 
case, for instance, when Brutus endeavored to free Rome by the 
assassination of Cfesar. But what one of God's commissioned mes- 

' Thus I have unwillingly left out Jahn'e observations about national feelivals, Turning 
EChoolE, further exercises, costume, &c. 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 205 

Bengers can do, when in harmony with the age, is shown by Luther's 
Reformation. 

It was one of the charges brought against the Turning system, that 
it was an affair artificially contrived, not a natural outgrowth. It is 
true that it grew quickly ; fruits naturally ripen rapidly in hot 
weather. The period from 1810 to 1813, when Turning grew up, 
was certainly hot enough. Was the fire burning under the ashes all 
the time from 1800, which broke into a flame in 1813? Ever after 
the defeat of Jena, a deep grief was burning in the hearts of all Ger- 
man men and youth. The longing to free the beloved German 
fatherland, to renew its ancient glory, nourished among them a pow- 
erful mutual bond of the truest love. And the early Turners were 
among those included in this bond. 

Their interested participation was nothing artificial, but merely the 
natural fruit of their earnest patriotism. This appears clearly enough 
from Jahn's account of the first beginning of the Turning system. It 
was this community of feeling and ideals which made the develop- 
ment of the art so rapid. There grew up, at the same time with it, a 
technical language, so appropriate that, instead of quickly going out 
of fashion, as artificial things do, it is at present, thirty-seven years 
after its appearance, entirely received and current. 

Together with this first natural development of the Turning 
system, there came up also a reaction against many received and uni- 
versal customs and manners. This necessarily aroused enemies, and 
the more because the Turners frequently overpassed the bounds of 
moderation, and made Turning identical with a warfare against all 
ancient errors. This was particularly the case after the war of 
freedom. 

These errors did not escape the attention of the friends of the 
Turning system ; and they endeavored to remedy them, whenever 
and however thoy could. This apppears, for instance, from the fol- 
lowing extract from an address to the students, delivered at the 
Wartburg festival, by a man whose liberal views are universally 
known; namely, Oken. He said : "Beware of the delusion that upon 
you depends the existence, and continuance, and honor of Germany. 
Germany depends only upon herself as a whole. Each class of men 
is only one member of the body called State, and contributes to its 
support only so much as its circumstances permit. You are yet 
young, and have no other duty than so to conduct yourselves that 
yon may grow up aright; to train yourselves; not to injure your- 
selves by foolish practices ; to apply yourselves, without permitting 
your attention to be diverted to any thing else, to this purpose which 
lies straight before you. The state is at present not concerned with 



206 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

you ; it has to do with you only in that you may hereafter become 
active members of it. You have no need of discussing what ought 
or ought not to happen in the state ; it is only proper for you to con- 
sider how you shall yourselves in future act in it, and how you may 
worthily prepare yourselves to do so. In short, all that you do 
should be done only with reference to yourselves, to your life as 
students ; and all else should be avoided, as foreign to your occupa- 
tions and your life, in order that your setting out in life may not be 
ridiculous." 

These words point out clearly the mistaken road by which the 
students afterward departed further and further from the right road. 
But they should not bear all the blame. 

If a child has good and bad qualities, some people will look only 
at the former, and will foretell all manner of good of him ; while 
others will see only the evil in him, and will prophesy an evil future 
for the child. But any one, who loves him truly, will consider how 
to cherish his good qualities, and to subdue his bad ones. 

Such a child, with good qualities, but not without faults, was the 
Turning system. Passow, a man of honesty and benevolence, and 
of disinterested activity, looked almost altogether at its bright side, 
and in his " Object of Turning'''' {Turnziel) expressed hopes quite too 
great ; it might almost be said that he spoke ill-luck to the child. 
Blame always follows excessive praise; praise must absolutely state 
the truth, must contain a just estimate of things. 

My friend StefFens, on the other hand, saw only the dark side, the 
evils of the system; and he wrote his " Caricatures,''^ [Caricaturen,) 
and his " Object of Turning,'''' (Turnziel,) which was directed against 
Passow's " Turnziel.'''' This talented man had lived all his life in the 
enthusiastic love of science and art; and this new system seemed to 
him to be cold and even inimical to every thing which he loved best. 
Jahn's rough, harsh, strong character was not agreeable to him ; in 
the bitter censoriousness of many of the Turners, he naturally saw a 
hasty, presumptuous endeavor to improve the world ; in their disre- 
spect for many eminent men, imruly vulgarity ; and in their German 
manners, only an affectation of them. 

Thus there broke out in Breslau a violent contest between the 
friends and enemies of the Turners,* which called out many other 

* This contest, in which 1 also took iiart, Steffens lias described in his Memoirs. StefTeas 
exercised a most profound and kindly influence upon my hfe; for which I shall forever be 
grateful to him. He was my instructor and my brother-in-law ; and for eight years we lived 
as faithful colleagues together, in the same house at Breslau. And now suddenly we came 
into opposition to each other. Our lasting, and mutual, and heartfelt love was such that it 
can not be described how much we both suffered from this truly tragic relation. My friends 
at Breslau even advised me to leave the place. When Steffens visited me, eighteen years 
afterward, at Erlangen, we there quietly reviewed the evil days at Breslau. This, our last 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 207 

publications besides Passow's and Steffens', only part of wliicli would 
now have any historical interest. A work of permanent value on the 
subject is that of Captain von Schraeling, on Turning and the Land- 
■wehr ; in which he showed how Turning was a valuable preparatory 
school for the training of the militia men.* Ilarnisch wrote " Turn- 
ing in its Universal Relations^'' {Das Turnen in Seinen Allseitigen 
Verhaltnissen.) 

In a dialogue entitled " Turning and the State^''\ I defended Jahn 
and the Turning system from the charge of being Jacobinical, and of 
hate toward France ; and, in some others, against those who charged 
it with being anti-Christian. But this controversy was warmly carried 
on in other places besides Silesia. Arndt wrote powerfully in favor 
of Turning.]; The physician Konen, in Berlili, w ote upon its medical 
importance ; § not to mention many other publications. 

During this controversy, the Prussian government showed great 
and deep interest in the Turning system. A plan had even been 
prepared for the establishment of Turning-grounds throughout the 
whole kingdom. But on the very day when this was to have been 
laid before the king for his approval the news of Sand's murder of 
Kotzebue reached Berlin, and the approval was withheld. This was 
the first fruit of that unhappy deed. 

Many years passed before Turning was again freely practiced in 
Prussia. In Wurtemberg alone|| it has been uninterruptedly main- 
tained down to the present day. In Bavaria the present monarch, as 
soon as he came to the throne, took the system under his protection, 
and employed Massmann to have a Turning institution erected at 
Munich. 

IV. TRAINING OP THE SENSES. 

Rousseau, in "^^»i«7c," discussed the education of the senses.^ 

earthly meetng, seemed to tne to join immediately oa to the early youthful intercourse of 
thirty-three years before ; and I felt myself drawn to him by a love which had lasted through 
good and evil tines, and which will outlive death, because it is stronger than death. 

* At a later period, in 1843, Dr. Monnich wrote " Turning and Military Service," (Das 
Turnen undder Kriegsdienst,) in which he clearly stated the important relation betw^een the 
two. W. Menzel, in his treatise, •' Bodily Training from the Point of View of National 
Ccanomi/," (Die Korperiibung aits dem Gesichtspuyikt dcr NalionaKkonomie,) has earnestly 
recommended Turning, as a means of educating defenders of the fatherland. 

t See my '-Miscellaneous Writings," (Vermischte Schriften.) First printed in the 
Sil^sian " Provincial Gazette," (Prorinzial/ildf/rn.) 

X ^'Spirit of the Age," (Geist der Zeit.) vol. 4, 1818. Reprinted with the title '-Turning; 
with <in Appendix," (Das Turnwesen nebst einen Anhange.) By E. M. Arndt. Leipzig, 
1842. A most valuable work. 

^ '' Life and Turning, Turning and Life" (Leben und Turnen, Turnen und Leben ) 
By von Kiiiien. Berlin, 1817. 

II A man of noble character and full of love for Germany and the German youth. Professor 
Klumpp, established the Stuttgart Turning Institution, and conducted it for many years. In 
1S12 he wrote his valuable treatise, " Turning ; a Movement for German National Develop- 
ment," (Das Turnen ; ein Deutsck- Nationales EntwicklungsMoment.') 

^ I have gone m< re into detail on th's point \v my chapter on Entile, which see. 



208 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

According to him, all the senses should be cultivated ; the eye, in 
estimating magnitudes and distances, and in drawing geometrical 
figures ; the touch, in judging by means of feeling, which the blind 
learn to do remarkably ; &c. 

In this department of gymnastics. Guts Muths substantially followed 
Rousseau. He assigned to the senses a remarkable office ; namely, 
to " awaken, from the slumber of non-existence, the child, at first 
asleep in its quiet bosom.'' The emptiness and impossibility of 
Locke's opinion, that man is at first a mere sheet of white paper, is 
made very clear and evident by Guts Muths' expression. 

" The soul of the young citizen of the world," says Guts Muths, in 
another place, "yet lies in the profound slumber which comes with it 
out of its condition of non-existence." The mind becomes at first 
susceptible of powerful imjiressions on the feelings ; and then becomes 
more and more awakened, and caj^'ible of more and more delicate 
impressions. " But, as the gradations of impressions on the senses, 
from the most violent to the most delicate of which we can conceive, 
are immeasurable, so is the refinement of our susceptibility to such 
impressions also possible to an immeasurable degree." All the life 
long, the mind is becoming constantly susceptible to fainter and 
fainter impressions; that is, more awake." 

Guts Muths' idea of training the senses is thus the sharpening of 
them ; as also appears from the examples of it which he gives. The 
boys are made to shut their eyes and feel of letters, figures, the devices 
on coins, &c. Seeing must be trained by cultivating the vision of 
small things and distant things. The children are " to follow Nature 
even to her minutest objects, even those scarcely visible to the eye." 
"The pupil," he says, "should observe not only the coarser parts of 
flowers, but his eye should pierce even their minutest portions. He 
should study the absorbent vessels, the structure of the skin, the bark 
and leaves of trees, many kinds of seeds ; the reproductive organs of 
plants, the pollen, anthers, <fec." He should be able to recognize a 
flower or a stone at thirty paces, and a tree at from a hundred to a 
thousand paces. His ear should be trained not only by music, but 
"he should observe the sound of laden and empty vehicles, of the 
squeaking of doors," &c. If the keenness of the senses, their sus- 
ceptibility, were the measure of their improvement, those who are 
disordered in their nerves would surpass the most practiced senses of 
the heaUhy. They are annoyed by the least and most distant noise ; 
and distinguish its exact nature only too well. If the pupils of Guts 
Muths could distinguish by the touch, with their eyes closed, between 
gold and silver coins, this was far outdone by a sick person, who 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 209 

became uneasy when any one, even without his knowledge, brought 
a silver spoon near him. 

Tlie American Indians, as is well known, whose mode of life is 
little better than that of animals, surpass most Europeans in the 
keenness of their senses; and thus, according to Rousseau and Guts 
Muths, the Caribs and Iroquois should be valued as our models. 
They might equally as well have proposed the eyes of a lynx, the 
nose of a hound, (fee., as ideals. I have expressed my views 
already upon such doctrines as to bodily training, particularly that 
of the senses, in the following ajihorisms, in which I have described 
an ideal of the cultivation of the senses. 

The ancient legends clearly expressed the difference between 
mere animal strength of body and the human intellectual strength of 
body, by making their giants — huge, stupid, uncouth masses of flesh — 
be conquered by knights, smaller in body, but of keener intellects. Are 
then tigers models for springing, apes for climbing, and birds for flying ? 
are they inaccessible ideals, to which the gymnast should look up 
with resignation and longing ? We might like very well to fly, but 
not in the form of a crow or a stork ; we would be angels. We 
would prefer to live imperfect, in a higher grade of existence, with 
the sense of capacity for development, than to fall back into a more 
complete but lower grade, behind us and below us. Caesar despised 
being the first man in a small village, because he felt himself capable 
of being the first man in Rome. In like manner, the Turning system 
contemns a lower animal development, because a higher human one 
is accessible tb it. 

If the eye were only a corporeal mirror of the visible world, it 
would represent equally well or equally ill the most different things, 
according to the bodilj'^ health and strength, or sickness and weak- 
ness, of its condition. But it is an organ of intellectual susceptibility ; 
of not only a bodily but also an intellectual union with things. And 
accordingly it is a well-grounded usage in language by which we say 
*' to have keen eyes ; " and " to have an eye for " particular things, 
such as plants, animals, &c. The former indicates bodily health and 
strength; the latter points to an original spiritual relation between 
the eye and certain things, trained by close study. 

The same is more or less true of the other senses. The art of cul- 
tivating the senses has only to a very small extent any thing to do 
with what increases their corporeal strength — as, for instance, with 
medical rules for taking care of and strengthening the eyes. 

It has much more to do with the cultivation of the intellectiiai 
susceptibility of each of the senses. Therefore it begins not \\itli 



210 . PHYSICAL EDUCATlOPfv 

the arbitrary, one-sided cultivation of one sense, wliicli tends to di* 
minish the susceptibility of the others ; and still less does it direct one 
sense arbitrarily to one single class of objects, as the eyes to plants or 
animals exclusively. For this would cripple the intellectual applica- 
tion of the senses to things of other kinds. But if the teacher has 
begun, as the universal microcosmic character of every well-organized 
child requires, with as general a cultivation of all bis senses as is 
possible, and then observes a prominent and stronger activity in one 
sense, or an especial applicability of it to some one department of the 
visible world, as of the eye to minerals, <fec., then only may he under- 
take the cultivation of that one sense or susceptibility, as a peculiar 
talent. 

If now the intellectual senses are supplied by the external senses 
with an abundance of intuitions of all kinds, the impressions thus 
received gradually ripen, and desire to be brought to the light of 
day. Thus a little child speaks words which it has often heard its 
mother use, then sings what it has often heard sung, and tries to draw 
what it has often seen. 

With every receptive organ nature has coupled a producing or 
representing one, or even more ; in order that man may not be solitary 
in the midst of his inward wealth, but may communicate with others. 
He can, in many ways, represent a known object, whose picture is 
visible to his mind; he can describe it in writing, act it, &c. 

The development of the susceptibility to impressions must naturally 
precede that of the power -of representing. Hearing must precede 
speaking and singing ; seeing, painting, &c. There exists a sympath}', 
as is well known, between the susceptible organs and the correspond- 
ing representing ones ; of the organs of hearing with those of speech, 
of those of vision with the hand, <fec. The use of the receiving organs 
seems to produce a secret, quiet growth of the representing ones, 
though these latter be not directly practiced. 

In many trades, the apprentice is made to look on for a whole 
year, before putting his hand to the work. When his eye thus 
becomes intelligent, the hand follows it sympathetically* It is to be 
wished that the example might be followed in all the cultivation of 
the senses. 

The teacher who tries to cultivate receptivity and power of repre- 
-sonting together, who requires the pupil to furnish an expression im- 
mediately after the impression is made, mistakes Nature, who requires 
a quiet, undisturbed condition of the senses for their receptive office, 
and usually a slow development of the power of representing. 

It is said of some of the North American Indians that the devel- 
opment, of their senses furnishes, for those who would combine them 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 211 

with bodily exercises, a model which never can be equaled. It is 
true that, according to the accounts of travelers, they surpass Euro- 
peans in keenness of sight, hearing, and smell. But are they there- 
fore models of the cultivation of the senses ? 

This is confusing the idea of a human cultivation of the senses with 
an animal one ; corporeal perfection of the senses with intellectual. 
The preceding observations have shown how diflferent these are ; exam- 
ples will make the difference still more evident. 

There are many men who have hearing so keen as to distinguish 
faint sounds at a very great distance, but who have no feeling at all 
for pure or beautiful music. There are most accurate piano-tuners 
and music-masters, who can distinguish every fault in any instrument 
amongst a full orchestra ; but who, notwithstanding this fineness of 
ear, are so destitute of an intellectual ear for music as to prefer the 
most vulgar sort of it. 

There are, again, others who can not tune any instrument accu- 
rately, and still less guide an orchestra; who are inspired by good 
music, and show distinct dislike to bad. Contrast with these keen 
and delicate hearers, Beethoven, who was almost deaf; and, again, 
there was another great harmonist, who said that perusing the score 
of a composition gave him more pleasure than the execution of the 
music, because the latter never equaled his ideal. He was thus ca- 
pable of intellectual musical pleasure, even had he been completely 
deaf. 

The case is similar with the eyes. Among my mineralogical pu- 
pils, I found some with very healthy bodily organs, who could perceive 
the smallest objects, and still were incapable of comprehending forms, 
of distinguishing like from unlike ; in short, they had eyes, but did 
not see. On the other hand, there were others, whose eyes were 
weak, and who were as it were blind to small crystals, but who felt 
all the beauty of the larger ones, and closely followed all their varie- 
ties of color. So, I have known exceedingly short-sighted young 
men, who still had the greatest taste for pictures. And, again, there 
are many very keen -sighted persons, who gaze without emotion on 
the most magnificent pictures, sculptures, and churches. 

The great distinction between the bodily and the intellectual 
senses might be illustrated by many other examples. 

Surely these animal sharp eyes and ears of the Indian are not our 
models. It is the spiritually-illuminated eyes of a Raphael, a van 
Eyck, an Erwin von Stein, the divinely-consecrated ears of Handel 
and Leo, which are the noblest specimens of the cultivation of the 
human senses, which are the divine models for men. 



212 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

Regard was had in the schools to the cultivation of the senses 
quite a long time ago ; or at least so it would appear. So-called 
"Intuitional Exercises" were introduced; Pestalozzi giving them an 
impulse, especially in his "Book for Mothers.'^ "The child,'' says 
Pestalozzi, "and indeed man universally, must be first made ac- 
quainted with what lies next him, before he can attend to the acquir- 
ing a knowledge of what is further off. The nearest visible object to 
the child is his own body, and this he should first of all observe, under 
the direction of the mother. She must, with him, follow the 
'■Booh for Mothers^ step by step, going through every division and 
subdivision of it, step by step, to the furthest details." 

Thus, for instance, we find in that work : 

"The first joint of the middle toe of the right foot. The middle 
joint of the middle toe of the right foot. The last joint of the middle 
toe of the right foot. The first joint of the middle toe of the left 
foot. The second joint of the middle toe of the left foot. The last 
joint of the middle toe of the left foot. 

" My body has two limbs above and two below. 

" My two upper limbs have two shoulders, two shoulder-joints, two 
upper-arms, two elbows, two elbow-joints, two fore-arms, two wrists, 
and two hands. 

" Each of my two upper limbs has one shoulder, one shoulder-joint, 
one upper-arm, one elbow, one elbow-joint, one fore-arm, one wrist, 
and one hand. 

" My two hands have two wrists, two palms, two thumbs, two fore- 
fingers, two middle fingers, two ring-fingers, and two little-fingers. 

" Each of ray two hands has one wrist, one palm, one thumb, one 
fore-finger, one middle-finger, one ring-finger, and one little-finger. 

" My two palms have two balls of the thumbs ; each of my two 
palms has one ball of the thumb." 

" My two great toes have four joints, two front and two back ; four 
knuckles, two front and two back ; and four joint-lengths, two front 
and two back. 

" Each of my two great toes has two joints, one front and one 
back ; two knuckles, one front and one back ; and two joint-lengths, 
one front and one back. 

" The ten fingers of my two hands have twenty-eight joints, ten 
first, eight middle, and ten last ; twenty-eight joint-lengths, ten first, 
eight middle, and ten last ; and twenty-eight knuckles, ten first, eight 
middle, and two last. 

" The five fingers of one hand," &c., <kc. 

It is evident how infinitely wearisome and unnatural such a mode 
of observing and naming over all the parts of the body must be, both 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 213 

to young and old- And it is an error to take his own body as the 
first object which comes under the notice of the child. Without 
some natural or artificial mirror, man would not see his face, and 
some other portions of his body, all his life long. A child is much 
more attracted by objects which stimulate his senses by color, bright- 
ness, smell, or taste. He would very much prefer chenies or apples 
to " the middle joint of the little toe of the right foot." 

Several detected Pestalozzi's error. But, taking his principle as 
true, that it is necessary to begin with what is nearest at hand, they 
took subjects from the school-room ; and the doors, windows, walls, 
seats, and desks were observed, described, and named, down to their 
smallest parts. I give an example.* 

" The school-room and what it contains. 

a. Enumeration of objects contained in and about the school-room. 

1. Without detailed definition. 

2. With detailed definition ; as, immovable, movable, simple, 

compound, how compound ? within reach ; necessary ; ac- 
cidentally pertaining to the room. 

b. Use of articles in and about the room. 

c. Description of individual things, by their color, their form, their 

parts, the connection of their parts. 

d. Materials of which the separate things and their parts are made." 
The description of the windows alone fills two closely-printed pages. 

It says, among other things : 

" The teacher should now have each of the separate parts of the 
window given in their order; as, the panes, the sash, the putty, the 
pulley, the button, the catch, the sash-bolt ; lastly, the whole window, 
the window-frame, the molding. * * * Thus the whole window 
ijas been analyzed, and its parts considered. It only now remains to 
econstruct it." 

It would be much better, instead of all this wearisome, pedantic 
..numeration and hyper-pedantic reconstruction, to say, " The windows 
Q the school-room are long and four-sided." 

That such a methodical and wearisome method of instruction 
would throw active children either into despair or sleep, is clear, 
rhey had better jump about over the desks and seats in sport, than 
to describe them in this insufferably-affected way ; they had better 
analyze perhaps not a whole window, but now and then a pane, in 
their play, and let the glazier " reconstruct " it, than to analyze and 
construct it in words. 

It is a pity that something can not be found to use as a subject of 
instruction in the school besides what the boys naturally learn in 

* From Dei eel's " System of Education," {Erziehungslehre,} 3. 32. 



214: PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

their own experience. They know the windows, and seats, and desks, 
without any teaching ; and will never call a desk a seat, or the con- 
trary. For what purpose should he consider separately, and name, 
all the parts of the window; the pulley, the catch, the sash-holt? 
What interest have they in these ? Such details and names may be 
left to the glazier, the carpenter, and the locksmith. Every trade is a 
little separate people, with a peculiar language ; but all these sepai-ate 
people understand each other, not in their trade-language, but in the 
language of their country. The trade-language belongs to the pecul- 
iar employment of each trade ; each one has to do with many things 
which have no concern with the others, and can not concern them, 
unless they neglect their own business. And fellow-tradesmen 
discuss the matters of their trade, in their peculiar trade-language. 

Justus Moser, who had an eminently sound understanding, says,* 
" My miller played me yesterday a comical trick. ,He came to my 
window and said that ' there must be four iron nuts on the standards 
and standard-pieces, opposite the crank ; and all the frames, boxes, 
bolting-cloths, and springs wanted fixing ; one of the iron post-belts 

will not work any longer with the shifting-piece, and .' He 

spoke German, my friend, and I understood well enough that he was 
talking about a windmill ; but I am no windmill-builder, to under- 
stand the thousand details of a mill, and their names. But at that 
point the knave began to laugh, and said, with a queer gesture, that 
the pastor did the same thing on Sundays; that he spoke nothing 
but learned words, that took the very hearing and seeing away from 
the poor people ; and that he would do better, he thought, to do as 
he (the miller) did, and furnish good meal to the parish, and keep his 
terms' of art for architects." 

The application to this sort of " intuitional instruction " is clear ; 
and is doubly forcible because the teachers are not architects, and 
only affect a knowledge of these technical matters. 

A remark of Herr Roth is very true, and very applicable to the 
present object. He says, " There are many things which, when rap- 
idly discussed, on a proper occasion, are interesting to children ; when, 
if studied by the hour, ajid methodically taught and reviewed, they 
would be most wearisome to them. To ask, cursorily, What is the 
difference between this table and that one ? is very well ; but to be 
staring at tables and desks, year in and year put, and describing 
them, is quite another thing." 

The word " stare " is precisely appropriate ; the exercise is a lifeless 
and forced one. The window and its parts are reflected in the 
staring eyes of the stupified and wearied child ; and his lifelessf 

• •^Patriotic Fantasies," {Patriotiscke Phantasieen,)3,^3. 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 215 

repetition of what the teacher says over to him corresponds with the 
lifeless reflection in his eyes. 

Close consideration will show that this sort of instruction is much 
more an exercise in language than of the senses, although one of the 
most unintellectual kind. The intuition in the case is only to give 
the teacher an opportunity to talk ; and accordingly it makes little 
difference what the object exhibited is, whether a picture by Raphael 
or a tavern-sign, the Strasburg cathedral or a wretched stable. 
Words can be made about any thing and every thing. The inquiry 
is scarcely made, Whether any knowledge is gained by the intuition ; 
and not at all. Whether a permanent remembrance is insured of the 
thing shown. Very few seem to have an idea how quiet, undisturbed, 
and often-repeated the bodily intuition must be, in order to the ob- 
taining of such a recollection, for the mental assimilation of the thing 
shown ; and how the pupil's words should be only the product of this 
assimilation. No one seems to consider this process of real genera- 
tion of words. A piece of gypsum is shown to a boy; he is made to 
repeat three times, "That is gypsum;" and then the specimen is put 
aside, and it is fancied that the boy has an actual knowledge of 
gypsum. 

It will now be asked. Should intuitional exercises be quite omitted 
in school ? I reply, Such wooden, methodical exercises on desks and 
seats may be omitted, as may all drilling merely for the sake of the 
drill ; and, further, so may all drilling that is to give practice in noth- 
ing except the mere use of words.* The hunter, the painter, the 
stone-cutter, &c., do not train their eyes, nor does the musician his 
ear, for the sake of training it. Children, properly instructed in nat- 
ural knowledge and in drawing, will be sure to use their eyes; and, 
as they penetr^ite further and further into their subject, they will, in 
the most natural manner, arrive at an increased accuracy of expression 
for the objects which they petx^eive by their senses. 

* Children are frequently found, especially in the common schools, who are as if dumb. 
How shall they be made to speak 1 I would recommend that they should be spoken to, not 
in a stiff school-fashion and schoolione, which would make them stupider than ever, but, as 
far as possible, in an entirely usual manner and tone, and on some common subject, which 
they understand, and on which questions may be put to them. Tables and desks may be 
u.sed for this purpose, but not methodically analyzed. 



PROGRESS OF EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

(Translated from Raumer's "■History of Pedagogy," for the American Journal of Education.] 



I. PEDAGOGY. 

History has made us acquainted with the very different eminent 
educators of the last century. We have seen that each of them had 
an ideal which he sought to attain ; a more or less clear conception 
of a normal man, who was to be produced from each child, by his 
method of education. 

Bacon defined art, " Man, added to things." A man, that is, who 
prints upon things the impress of his mind. Does the art of educa- 
tion come under this definition ? Certainly not ; for we should have 
to consider the children to be educated as mere material, upon which 
the educator is to impress his ideal, as the stone-cutter does on a 
block of marble. But we might define the art of education, very 
generally, in analogy to Bacon's definition, thus : " Man added to 
man." 

In order to a correct understanding of this last definition, we must 
see clearly how it is related to the various ideals or normal men of 
the educators. Did not each of them, either consciously or uncon 
sciousl)', seek to determine an ideal of the human race ; a generic 
ideal, including all individuals ; and would he not educate every child 
according to his generic character and ideal ? 

God is the educator of the human race. Man is created by him, 
and for him ; the beginning, progress, and perfection of humanity are 
his work. And if the teacher would have his work endure, he must 
look to God's system of " education of the human race." But it will 
not suffice for the educator to look to the generic character and the 
destiny of humanity only ; he must regard another point. Every 
child is born with bodily and mental peculiarities, which sharply dis- 
tinguish it from all other children, although they all have the generic 
character. No two children were ever entirely alike ; each one is an 
entirely peculiar, personified organism of natural endowments ; a com- 
pletely individual and personified vocation. An invisible and myste- 
rious master forms each of them according to a separate ideal : a 
master who does not, as human artists do, first fashion his work and 
then neglect it, as something entirely separate from himself; but who 
continues to work within man, even until his death, to the end that 
he may become like his prototype, and may fulfill his vocation. 



PROGRESS OF EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 2l'7 

God cares for each individual with the same paternal love as for 
the whole human race. 

The vocation of the educator is to become a conscientious and obe- 
dient fellow-laborer with the divine Master; to endeavor to know and 
to help forward the perfection of that ideal for whose realization the 
master has already planted the seed, the potentia, in the child. I 
repeat : The educator must look to His work, if his own work is to 
stand ; that is, not to the scarcely-comprehensible work of God upon 
the whole human race, but to his work within every individual child 
to be educated. 

God formed man after his own image ; but, after the fall, it is said 
that Adam " begat a son in his own likeness, after his image ; " not 
after the divine ; flesh born of flesh, a human child, perverted from 
God. During all the thousands of years which have passed since 
Adam, only one child has lived who was sprung immediately from 
on high, and who, of his own power, grew in knowledge, in stature, 
and in favor with God and man ; and who needed no education, but 
only care. All other men are invariably sinners from their youth up; 
and in all the image of God is removed away. 

The purpose of all education is, a restoration of the image of God, 
with which the new birth begins. " This is the work of the regener- 
ating, creating power of God, {x &sou ysvvij^^vai ;) and, although a 
mystery both in its origin and in its aims, (John iii., 8,) works upon 
the earth in a visible and unmistakable manner — a new creation, a 
new man."* The mystery of its origin is the mystery of the sacra- 
ment of baptism, " the bath of regeneration." After that period 
there are two powers within the child, who commence the strife be- 
tween the spirit and the flesh, the old and the new man ; a strife of 
regeneration, which endures even to the end of life.f Parents and 
teachers are the auxiliaries of the child in this contest. The prob- 
lem of Christian pedagogy is, lovingly and wisely to watch, pray, and 
labor, that in the child the new man shall grow and be strengthened, 
and that the old man shall die. 

Thus it is that we understand the term " man added to man." 

But the church theory of baptism has been attacked ; and, in our 
own times, anabaptist views have become widely disseminated. 
Many see, in baptism, only a symbolical act, by which the baptized 

* Harless, "Elhics," 77. 

t Larger Catechism. " The power and work of baptism are : the mortification of the old 
Adam, and afterward the resurrection of the new man. Which two are in progress through- 
out all the hfe ; insomuch that the Christian life is nothing else than a daily baptism, begun 
once, but always in progress." 

And J. Gerharl says, ''Infants, in baptism, receive the first fruits of the spirit and the 
faith." 



218 PROGRESS OF EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT 

is preliminarily received among the members of the Christian church, 
without becoming one truly and actively, because he is yet inexperi- 
enced in faith. It is by confirmation that he becomes consciously an 
acting member of the church. To admit a grace of baptism, it is 
said, is to admit a magical operation of the sacraments. 

On this subject I refer to the dogmatic theologians, especially to 
Luther ; and shall here only observe as follows. 

The difference respecting baptismal grace seems to proceed chiefly 
from the opinion that, if grace passes from God to man, the latter 
can not be entirely passive ; but that God can not confer a spiritual 
gift, unless the recipient shall receive it with intelligent consciousness. 

Let us turn for a moment from spiritual to natural endowments. Is 
it not a proverb that "Poets are born ? " Must it not be confessed 
that, in the new-born infant Shakspeare, the potentia, the seed, of the 
greatest creative talents the world ever saw was slumbering, quiet and 
unobserved, just as there was once slumbering, in a small acorn, the 
potentia of the mighty oak of a thousand years, which now stands 
before us ? And might we not reply to the masters in Israel, who 
doubt the existence of this potentia, "Ye do err, not knowing the 
power of God ? " For to whom belongs the glory ? "Was the poet 
the intentional production of his parents ? And could not God, who 
in so profoundly-mysterious and incomprehensible a manner blessed 
their union, confer an equally wonderful power upon the sacrament 
which he ordained ?* 

Although I refer to dogmatic writers for the details of this theory, 
yet I may here observe that it is of the utmost importance to theolo- 
gians. If Christian parents believe in the actual beginning of a new 
and sanctified hfe in their child, if they see in him a child of God, 
in whom the Holy Ghost works, they will educate him as a sancti- 
fied child of God, will teach him early to pray, and will make him 
acquainted with God's Word. But if they do not believe that the 
seed of a new life is in the child, if they consider him a " natural man, 
who receives nothing from the spirit of God,'' and as incapable of 
faith, they will proceed according to whether they are Christians or 
not. If not, they will bring up their child as a natural child of Rous- 
seau's kind ; a heathen child, in a heathen manner. But if they are, 
as is the case with baptists and anabaptists, they will still see in the 
child a heathen, but one who can early be brought to Christianity, by 
the Word, and by awakening addresses. In this manner they think 
of themselves to bring about the new birth, instead of considering, 

* The unworthy manner in which the sacrament is often administered causes many to err. 
But if the liing should send us a magnificent present by a foolish servant, incompetent to es- 
timate it, would that diminish the value of the present ? 



PROGRESS OF EDUCATIONAL DiBVELOPMENT. 219 

^8 do the believers in the church's theory, that the care of the seed 
of a new life, planted in the child by baptisna, is the office of 
education. 

II. PELAGIAN PEDAGOGY. 

I have mentioned Rousseau. We have learned to consider him the 
true representative of that system of pedagogy which I shall, for 
brevity, call Pelagian — or even hyper-Pelagian. "Every thing is 
good,'' begins '■'■EmileJ'' " as it comes from the hands of the Creator ; 
every thing degenerates, in the hands of men." These words he 
uses, not of Adam before the fiiU, but of every new-born son of 
Adam, born of sinful seed. And he says, in another place, " The 
fundamental principle of all morals, upon which I have proceeded in 
all my writings, and have developed in Eniile as clearly as I could, 
is, that man is by nature good, a lover of justice and order ; that no 
inborn perverseness exists in the human heart, and that the first im- 
pulses of nature are always right." 

Thus he distinctly denies original sin, and would disprove the words, 
'' That which is born of the flesh is flesh ; flesh and blood can not in- 
herit the kingdom of heaven." While the Christian teacher seeks 
for reformation, for the destruction of the old man, and the quicken- 
ing and growth of the new, Rousseau recognizes only one, the old 
man, whom he himself calls the " natural man." Him he would de- 
velop and watch over ; and would dress him out for baptism with 
borrowed Christian adornments, although he ignores Christianity, and 
congratulates himself on the fact that his child of nature belongs to 
no religion and no church. 

"Vye have seen to what absurd conclusions Rousseau was pushed by 
this unchristian premiss ; to what unnatural views, by his constant 
reference to nature ; to what sophistries, by his attempt to show that 
all wickedness is first implanted in the child, originally as pure as an 
apgel, by adult persons. Luther's sound and healthy pedagogy is 
precisely the opposite of Rousseau's. The comparison of the two 
Biust convince any one that the division of educators into Pelagian 
and anti-Pelagian is a fundamental one, and of the greatest practical 
importance. 

III. RE-ESTABLISHMENT OF THE IMAGE OF GOD. HUMAN TRAINING. 

Christ said, " Be ye perfect, even as your Father in heaven is per- 
fect." Thus he places before us the very highest ideal ; and reminds 
us of that lost paradise where man retained the uninjured image of 
his prototype. And thus we take courage to " press toward the 
mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." 

Christian training seeks the re-establishment of the image of God, 



220 PROGRESS OF EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

by raising up and faithfully guarding the new man, and by the death 
of the old. The process of the re-establishment is one both of build- 
ing up and of destroying ; positive and negative ; and this in re- 
lation to 

a. Holiness and love. 

b. Wisdom. 

c. Power and creative energy. 

IV. EVIL TRAINING. 

While a right training, such as is pleasing to God, seeks such a 
re- establishment of the image of God in man, that the new and heav- 
enly man shall become a power within him, and the old man shall 
die, there is still, on the other hand, a false and devilish training,* a 
miseducation, a caricature of education, which is not satisfied with 
our inborn sins, but which also proceeds to destroy the young by 
naturalizing bad instincts in them, or even by a methodical course of 
corruption. The ideal objects of this miseducation are to destroy the 
seed of grace in the new man, in the child, and, on the other hand, 
to encourage and protect the old man, the man of sin, until he shall 
rule, alone and uncontrolled. 

Fearful evils grow out of such a state of things. All manner of 
warnings away from this destructive path should be given ; and to this 
end we should give diligent attention to discipline in the Lord, to de- 
lay, to education, and to miseducation. 

V. (a.) RE-ESTABLISHMENT OF HOLINESS AND LOVE. CHRISTIAN ETHICAL 
TRAINING. 

Man fell, from pride ; because he would be not merely like his 
Maker, but equal to him, instead of obeying him in childlike love. 
In the place of love of God, there thenceforth prevailed in him a de- 
lusive self-conceit and self-love ; and, in order that he might not thus 
go entirely to ruin, God reserved for himself a place in him, by a con- 
science, powerfully corroborated by the death of the wicked. This 
was man's dowry, when he was driven out of Paradise ; his protect- 
ing angel, powerful against his original sinfulness, who ever, against 
his own will, kept him humble in the fear of God, which is the begin- 
ning of wisdom ; and was his inward taskmaster, to drive him to 
Christ. Afterward, the law was put over him, as a severer taskmaster ; 
to awaken his sleeping conscience, and to direct him when going 
astray.f 

In the fullness of time appeared Christ, to reconcile fallen man to 

* " We are justly given over lo tliat ancient wicked one, the master of death, because he 
has persuaded our will into the similitude of his will, which is not established in thy truth."—- 
Augustine's " Covfessions," vii., 21. 

t Romans, ii., 14—17. 



PROGRESS OF EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 221 

God, and to re-establish the kingdom of childlike obedience and 
love. 

The explanation of each of the ten commandments, in the smaller 
Lutheran catechism, begins with the words, " We must fear and love 
God." This is to awaken the conscience of the child, and to impress 
upon him the fear of God ; but love is joined with fear. In these 
two words are contained the law and the gospel, the Old and New 
Testament pres(intations of the commandments. Conscience and the 
law continually remind sinful man of God's holiness and justice, and 
drive him to repentance. But the most anguished conscience will 
find peace in looking to the forgiving love of Christ ; in faith in him 
who beareth the sins of the world. 

The Holy Scriptures repeatedly point us to the holiness, justice, and 
love of God as our model. " Be ye holy, saith the Lord, as I am 
holy." " Be merciful, as your Father in heaven is merciful." " Be- 
loved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another." But 
Christ includes all in the words "Be ye perfect, even as your Father 
in heaven is perfect." 

Thus, we repeat, He admonishes men to return to God ; to re- 
establish their original likeness to him ; and He, who is " the bright- 
ness of his Father's glory, and the express image of his person," the 
beginner of our faith, as he will be the finisher of it, will not neglect 
the work of his hands. The hour of his death was the hour of the 
birth of a new world, victorious over sin and death, loving and well- 
pleasing to God. After His return to his Father, he sent us the Holy 
Ghost, to complete the woik which he had begun in the hearts of 
men, and to extend the kingdom of God over the whole earth. He, 
the educator of the human race, is the master of all teachers; he 
must guide them in all truth, must bless their labors, and teach them 
to pray. Only under his guidance can a Christian ethical training 
prosper, the image of God be renewed in the child, holiness and love 
planted in his heart, and wickedness and unlovingness rooted out. 

VI. ANTI-CHRISTIAN AND IMMORAL MISEDUCATION. 

But Avho can enumerate the manifold offences of parents and teach- 
ers, against the rules of a Christian ethical training? 

The conscience of children is laid asleep instead of being awakened, 
and sins are treated as pardonable weaknesses. 

In the place of a godly conscience is even planted a lying spirit ; a 
devil's voice is placed in the hearts of the children. Thus, there is 
held up before them, as the highest object of attainment, not accept- 
ance with God, but the false and deceiving glitter of honor among 
men ; notwithstanding the warning voice of tlie Lord, " How can ye 



222 PROGRESS OF EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

believe, wliich receive honor one of another, and seek not the honor 
which Cometh from God only ? '' How often must we hear it said, 
What will people say? Foolish parents refer their children to 
"people" as the highest tribunal; to the customs of the multitude 
who are walking on the broad road which leadeth to destruction ; 
instead of early impressing upon them the bold expression of the 
*postle, " For what have I to do to judge them also that are without ? " 

A similar practice is that of teaching children to put on a hypo- 
critical behavior before people, to assume rootless and lifeless phari- 
saic virtues, such as will pass current with those who do not look for 
any ethical basis of action, and with whom the show will pass for the 
substance. 

If we follow the life of the fleshly minded, back to their youth, 
we shall very often discover many serious faults in their parents. 
The first seeds of the dominion of the flesh in them were often 
planted either by the unjustifiable neglect of their parents or by act- 
ual positive misleading. Who can describe the influence upon a 
child's soul of vile loose dances, of vulgar plays, of reading bad 
romances ? How often have cards and loto during childhood origin- 
ated the subsequent fury for gaming ; and how often have deluded 
parents taught these dangerous games to their children ! 

Many things might be said of the bad examples set before children 
by the thoughtless and even wicked remarks which they hear grown 
persons make.* But enough has been said to explain the meaning 
of the term " anti-Christian, immoral miseducation." 

VII. RE-ESTABI.I6HMGNT OF WISDOM. INTELLECTUAL TRAINING. WRONG WAYS. 

With sin is closely allied error ; deviation from true ways. Adam's 
naming of the beasts in Paradise indicates the profound and godlike 
power of mental penetration which he possessed before the fall. For 
it is said that, as the man named them, " that was the name thereof." 
This divine approbation of Adam's nomenclature showed that the 
names were competent to express the natures of the various animals ; 
and would certainly not have been bestowed upon the names which 
modern science has arbitrarily invented and bestowed on them. 

But the restoration of this primitive innocent wisdom is an object 
to be sought after. It is the object of all intellectual training ; and 
is intended to destroy error, and lead to the real truth ; just as it is 
the office of Christian ethical training to destroy sin, and to lead to 
virtue by faith. 

As conscience maybe considered a correlative of original sin, so 

* " The utmost reverence is due to the young ; if you are meditating any thing vile, disre- 
gard not their tender age." How many Christians does Juvenal put to shame T 



RIOGRESS OF EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 223 

the reason may be considered a correlative of original error; as an 
intellectual conscience; an organ of intellectual self-knowledge. 

Defenders of Christianity have said much against the reason ; and 
quite as much might be said against the conscience. We have seen 
that in men, instead of the true conscience, the voice of God, there 
may enter a false conscience, the voice of the devil, betraying into all 
evil. In like manner the reason may become false, especially through 
pride. When not thus distorted, it represents God's truth in man, as 
the conscience does God's holiness and justice. 

"The reason," says Hamann, "is holy, right, and good ; but it can 
produce nothing except a conviction of the universality of sinful ig- 
norance." Thus, the right reason will make us humble ; and points 
sinful, ignorant man to a holy and all-wise God. Through an unholy, 
wrong, and wicked reason, on the contrary, comes, on one hand, the 
boundless presumptuousness of pretending to know absolutely, to 
recognize truth as God does ; or, on the other hand, a doubt of all 
recognition of truth, a proud and cold acataleptic condition. The 
good and holy reason of a Christian applies itself, under the Holy 
Ghost, to that learning which guides into all truth. In this school — 
the school of humility — it learns to know its intellectual limits ; and 
the boundaries between the regions of faith and of sight. It recog- 
nizes the fact that, since the fall, man has been in the " region of dis- 
similitude," and distinguishes between that which is given him to 
know and that which is the subject of faith ; those incomprehensible 
mysteries whose essence God alone understands, because he is that 
essence. 

Absolute truth, as it is in God, is just as inaccessible to man, as 
long as he is imprisonBd within his earthly tabernacle, as is absolute 
holiness. He who asserts that he possesses the absolute truth must 
also mean that he is absolutely and completely holy; and armed with 
divine power.* " Knowledge, and power, and hohness are identical." 

A strife for wisdom, analogous with the strife for hohness, lasts 
every man his lifetime, in the pursuit after truth. 

There is also an intellectual misedueation, analogous to the ethical 
one, in men perverted and turned away from God. Puffed up with 
a conceit of wisdom, they are deceived as to the limits of it. They 
also mistake the giver of all knowledge ; do not ask him for wisdom ; 
do not thank him for the intellect which he has given them ; for they 
think all knowledge the fruit of the powers of their own minds. 
But their labor, which is not performed in God, which seeks not the 

* Not tliat every truth is merely apparent, and is uncertain ; but that every truth contains 
Fom^lhing entirely comprehensible, and at the same time something entirely incomprehensi 
blfc. This is true even of the profqundest essence of mathematical truth— of its ultimate base. 
See the chapter entitled '' Mystenously Revealed.'' 



224 PROGRESS OF EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

glory of God, but of themselves, is a servile labor, without a blessing 
and without peace. This is unfortunately the character of the usual 
scientific labors of the present day ; and this perverted belief in so 
many learned men has a most powerful and most evil influence on 
the instruction of the young.' Vanity impels the learned men ; they 
impel the young by vanity, and lead them to make a show before 
people with what they have learned. Thus it happens that all pleas- 
ure in what they learn, and the mode of learning it, is entirely driven 
away, and replaced by an idle pleasure in the praise of men ; and all 
which is cursed by such vanity must of necessity wither away. 
While both old and young, teachers and scholars, are, like Narcissus, 
foolishly burying themselves in a vain self-admiration and self-respect, 
still, others fall into the same snare, by devoting to ungodly scientific 
labors their whole lives, words, and actions. Students of nature, 
wholly absorbed in the creature, ask not after the Creator ; but live 
in a modern heathenism ; and philologists, neglecting every thing that 
is Christian, worship false gods with the ancient classics. Such errors 
as these have a destructive influence on youth. 

I have elsewhere discussed various other errors, both of teachers 
and of the lawgivers of pedagogy. 

VIII. RESTORATION OF THE HUMAN POWERS. 

Man is to "have dominion over the fi^-h of the sea, and over the 
fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over 
every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth." This dominion 
was that of the image of God, in the name of God ; peacefully rec- 
ognized by all creatures. Thus the painters place Adam and Eve in 
Paradise, at peace with the lions and tigers around them. But when 
man became disobedient to God, the creatures became disobedient to 
him ; for they had reverenced him only as the viceroy of God. 

There, however, remained to man a species of dominion, even 
after the fall. "And the fear of you," said God to Noah, "and the 
dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth, and upon every 
fowl of the air, upon all that moveth upon the earth, and upon all the 
fishes of the sea; into your hand are they delivered." 

But this was not the original peaceful dominion ; it was a domin- 
ion of fear and terror. And a commandment of fear came also from 
the Lord. As he had before the fall given man all manner of herbs, 
and the fruit of trees, for food, so he said, after the flood, "Every 
moving thing that liveth shall be meat for you ; even as the green 
herb have I given you all things." 

Therefore, even to the present time, the dominion of fallen man is 
such over the beasts, that they fear him, as rebels do the power of 



PROGRESS OF EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 225 

their ruler ; and his weapons, still more than his divine image. But 
the prophecies in Isaiah of a future time, when a young child shall 
lead a lion and a lamb together, and when the sucking-child shall 
play upon the cockatrice's den, point to a restoration of this human 
dominion over the beasts. Daniel in the lions' den, and Paul, whom, 
according to the Word of the Lord, the viper did not injure, are the 
. forerunners of that dominion which man shall again possess, not by 
the power of his weapons, but by faith. 

The passage of the Israelites through Jordan and through the Red 
Sea, the powerful prayers of Elisha for and against the rain, Christ's 
stilling of the storm by the words "Peace; be still," and his walk- 
ing upon the sea — all these point to a future dominion of man over 
inorganic nature also ; a moral dominion, in the power of faith, in 
the power of God. 

The various healings of the sick point to a similar future power. 
But, it may be said, all that we are saying relative to the restora- 
tion of human powers is simply arguing from a miraculous past to a 
miraculous future. 

It is true that at present we have only the shadow of that past and 
future time ; and it is only with that shadow that we have at present 
to do. 

Thus thought the most judicious of philosophers. Bacon, when he 
saidj " Knowledge and power are the same " (Scientia et potentia 
hominis coincidunt in idem.) In proportion as man knows nature, he 
rules it. Bacon every where requires, not merely a theoretical knowl- 
edge, but a practical, efficient power. With all theoretical knowl- 
edge of nature there goes also a practical art; an art of operating 
upon nature, mostly based upon scientific knowledge. 

Thus we do in fact rule the creation, not by the mental magic of 
words, strengthened by faith ; but we make it serviceable to us by 
searching into the nature and powers of different creatures, bringing 
them under our power, and setting one to work upon another. 

We tame and improve animals, we improve plants, guide the light- 
ning, constrain steam to serve us, fly by the aid of gas, cure by all 
kinds of medicine, and light is made to serve us in the place of 
artists. 

In this realm man rules, and he seeks in all ways to extend his do- 
minion. The present time boasts especially of this extension. But 
this is no gain, if all nobility of feeling, all sense for higher things, 
are to be choked and destroyed ; if all intellectual power is to become 
slavishly subservient to the earthly ; and if man, utterly blinded with 
his convulsive efforts, is to seek material objects only. 

15 



226 PROGRESS OF EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

We are bound to strive against such ungodly and unworthy im- 
pulses. We may not be indifferent in whose name it is that we 
work ; whether it is Moses who acts, or Jannes and Jarabres. Both 
theoretical and practical natural science must be taught, in a right 
and pious manner ; both must be sanctified, as well in principle as in 
purpose. 

IX. THE CREATIVE POWER OF MAN. 

When man, as the image of God, was placed as his representative 
in the dominion over the creatures, he was also himself shaped in the 
image of God. 

It would seem that the Creator desired that his creatures should 
themselves partake of his creative power; for he conferred upon 
])Iants, beasts, and men the power of reproducing their kind, to all 
time ; instead of himself forming one generation after another. 

But to man he granted more ; he granted him the gift of various 
creative powers, and an intelligent will for the free developnent of 
those powers. The bees build dodecahedric cells, not by a free and 
improvable art, but by instinct ; they mtist make dodecahedra, just 
as the inorganic elements of a garnet crystal must gather into the 
same shape. 

Of what kind, it might be asked, were these gifts in Adam, before 
the fall ? Only one is mentioned in Genesis, that of speech. It was 
already observed that the Creator approved of the names which Adam 
gave to the beasts ; and that these must therefore have expressed the 
real character of the beasts. In these names, humanly given, God's 
creation was "mirrored, they were actual names; really substantives ; 
arising out of the appearance of tlie creatures themselves. We, fall- 
en men of the present day, can not make such names.* 

We may consider this giving of the names by Adam as the first 
entirely complete expression of human speech ; a completeness which 
later men have sought to equal in many ways, in prose and in poetry. 

The very name of poet reminds us that he is an image of his Cre- 
ator — a " maker." The greatest of poets has, in the Midsummer 
Night's Dream, thus described the poet : — 

" The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, 

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven ; 

And as imagination bodies forth 

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen 

Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing 

A local habitation and a name." 

Are not the forms bom from Shakspeare's wondrously teeming 

* We make great efforts to describe in as perfect a way as possible, and search out many 
words, mostly adjectives, so as to stick together a sort of mosaic picture in words, as perfect 
and similar as may be, of minerals, &c. 



PROGRESS OF EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 227 

fancy — Macbetli, Hotspur, Desdemona, Shylock — indeed most of the 
persons in his dramas — so entirely individualized, independent men, 
that we might almost be tempted to assert that they have a more in- 
dividual existence than do numberless actual human beings ?* 

Thus the poet creatively, by his words, reveals a rich interior world. 
And his poems even stimulate sensitive hearers to become poets them- 
selves ; to repeat his creative act. 

The historian and the orator are related to the poet. 

But above all the human arts of language, and different from them, 
stands in holy solitude the revealed Word of God, which through 
his etficient power causes the regeneration of the world. From its 
fullness, preachers, and singers of divine songs, draw their power over 
the hearts of their hearers.f In this holy realm, man finds a foretaste 
of the powers of the future world ; of his return into his father's house. 

As in the arts of language, so does the creative power of man ex- 
press itself in fine arts. Raphael does not only give lis true rep- 
resentations of localities and of men ; he paints a new earth, a new 
heaven, and glorified saints like angels. 

Thus we can trace this creative power in every art ; in the sculp- 
tor, the architect, the nmsician ; sometimes imitating, and sometimes 
idealizing, in a divine aspiration. 

Every artistic gift implanted by God in the soul of a child must be 
faithfully cherished and trained. To this end the first requisite is, 
that his senses shall be trained : his eye to a true, clear, vivid appre- 
hension of the visible world ; his ear to true and keen hearing, &c. 
And with this development of the susceptibilities must sooner or lat- 
er be connected that of the power of representation : of speaking, 
singing, writing, painting, &c. ; that is, the development of the creat- 
ing power. But, above all, his feelings must be purified and sancti- 
fied, that he may have no pleasure in impure artistic labors, in extern- 
al beauty without internal moral goodness. 

I can not utter a sufficiently emphatic warning against the usual 
abuses of these powers. The apostle James refers to the abuse of 
speech. "The tongue," he says, (and we may add, the pen and the 
press,) "is an unruly evil. Therewith bless we God, even the Father ; 
and therewith curse we men, which are made after the similitude of 
God. * * * Doth a fountain send forth at the same place sweet 
water and bitter ? " And it is said, in earnest warning, "For by thy 
words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be con- 
demned." 

• God did not make'men and then depart, but they are of him and in him. Remain in him 
who made you. It is upon this truth that the real energy and actual existence of a human 
being depend. 

t " The Word, added lo the element, makes it a sacrament." 



228 PROGRESS OF EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

These warnings are applicable both to speakers and writers ; and 
to hearers and readers too. 

The fine arts, especially, have variously and deeply sinned against 
purity ; let us guard our children against impure pictures. Unholy 
and delusive passions characterize the modern music; let us return to 
the chaste and pure music of the ancient masters. 

I pray the reader to receive with indulgence this attempt to base 
pedagogy upon principles; to set forth, though only in outline, 
its purpose and object. It is an endeavor to show that all human 
training must seek the restoration of the image of God ; and that a 
Christian, ethical, intellectual, and artistic training, in particular, should 
contemplate the renewal of our similarity to God in holiness, wisdom, 
power, and creative energy. Such a training leads to holiness, which 
has the promise of this world and the next. 



CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 

[Translated from Raumer's ^'History of Pedagogy," for the American Journal of Education.] 



I. THE LATIN LANGUAGE SINCE THE CHRISTIAN ERA. SPEAKING AND WRITING 

LATIN IN GERMAN SCHOOLS. 

On comparing several school-programmes, in order to determine 
the number of hours per week devoted to the studies of Latin and 
Greek, I find at Stendhal there are forty-five hours to Latin, twenty -three 
to Greek; at Erfurt, forty-two hours to Latin, twenty-one to Greek ; at 
Koesfeld, sixty-eight hours to Latin, twenty-eight to Greek ; and in other 
gymnasiums in like manner. Why is the Greek so far behind the Latin 
in this respect ? Are the Latin classics in so great a proportion superior 
to the Greek — Cicero to Demosthenes and Plato, Virgil to Homer, 
Livy to Herodotus and Thucydides ? This is nowhere pretended 
Or is Greek so much easier than Latin, and therefore to be learnel 
with less effort and less time ? No intelligent person will maintain 
this ; the opposite is rather the case. How many more difficulties 
await the beginner, from the very beginning, from the more compli- 
cated nature of the Greek forms and inflection, as compared with the 
simpler Latin ! And do not the different dialects perplex the learner, 
very much as a Frenchman would be perplexed who should undertake 
to acquire at the same time the High and Low German and the 
other German dialects ? And, if Greek is more difficult than Latin, 
if the Greek literature — setting aside the New Testament — is superior 
to the Latin, we ask again. Why is the instruction in Greek so much 
less than that in Latin in our schools, when evidently, on the forego- 
ing grounds, more effort and time are requisite to the mastery of it ? 

The answer to this question is this : that in the stuJy of Latin a 
very different, higher, and more difficult object is contemplated ; 
namely, the mastery, of the Latin as of a second mother-tongue, and 
the power of writing and speaking it with ease. 

But why is not the same command of Greek now sought ; the 
command which Cicero and the Romans thought requisite to educa- 
tion ? History answers this question. Let us briefly state the 
answer. 

The reason why, at Koesfeld, sixty-one hours of Latin instructioa 
are given, is ultimately based upon the former universal dominion of 
Rome, whose influence reaches down even to our own times. 



230 CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 

A Roman of the fifteenth century, Laurentius Valla, writes : — "We 
have lost Rome, we have lost our empire ; not by our own fault, but 
by the fault of time. Yet in the strength of that magnificent empire 
we yet rule over great part of the earth. Ours is Italy ; ours are 
Spain; Germany, Pannonia, Dalmatia, Illyricum, and many other 
peoples. For, wherever the Roman language prevails, there is the 
Roman empire." 

The dominion of the Roman tongue, since the overthrow of the 
Roman empire, has extended itself in two ways ; as the language of 
the Roman Catholic church, and as that of the Roman-German em- 
pire. Later, German was the official language in Germany, and 
French the diplomatic language. Since the Reformation, Latin 
has been the biblical, religious, and legal language only for the 
Catholic nations ; it has also been that of literature. 

Latin is a speech of traditions more than a thousand years old ; to 
disuse Latin would seem to be a radical abandonment of traditions. 
Therefore it is that the Romish church holds so fast to Latin. By 
using one and the same language it proposes to maintain its unity in 
all time and in all countries. To worship God in a variety of tongues 
it regards as Babelish, and as tending to schism ; and accordingly 
it adheres to the vulgate as the received text. 

Luther's translation of the Bible made the greatest breach in this 
traditional church Latinism ; and the most active opposition to Romish 
tendencies has resulted from the efforts of Bible societies, whose 
object is to translate the Bible into all languages. 

At the revival of classical studies Latin remained the speech of the 
literary world. I say remained ; for it is erroneous to suppose that 
it was then that it first became a literary language. From the time 
of the Romans, a current of traditionary Latin learning, never en- 
tirely interrupted, flowed even into the sixteenth century. Latin was 
the medium for philosophers, jurists, physicians, mathematicians, <kc. 
Whoever undertook to study the sciences passed into a strange world, 
not only of facts, but of speech. The necessary books were Latin, 
the teachers taught in Latin, the technol ,igy of every art was Latin. 
Here his mother-tongue quite failed the aspirant after a higher cul- 
ture ; he found himself obliged to work into this literary conventional 
Latin, and to live in it, as he had been obliged to in his childhood 
into his native language. The operation was a sort of new birth, 
tfften symbolized by the adoption of a new Latin or Greek name. 
Scientific writers could not overstep the charmed circle ; indeed it 
would be impracticable, without the construction of a new term- 
inology in German. Only individuals of the highest authority, 
like Luther and Keppler, dared lead the way in making any such 



CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 231 

use of German, or could bring the literary men to read their 
books.* 

During the long period between the fall of the Roman empire and 
our own times the European Latin underwent many changes. 
During the first thousand years it had the character of a language 
still alive, though dying and degenerating. It was arbitrarily or un- 
consciously varied to meet the wants or the spirit of every period. 
The ancient classics were altogether neglected ; and, being restrained 
by no accepted models, most Latinists of the period wrote what was 
in fact any thing rather than Latin. 

The influence of Christianity upon this languagef having acquired 
its strength in the midst of the heathen Latin, it was obliged to sub- 
stitute Christian significations for the heathen ones of existing words ; 
to give them a new nature, to breathe into them a new soul. Of the 
divine power exercised in this process a wonderful example is furnished 
by the mighty, deep-feeling, and mysterious Latin church-hymns ; which 
truly sounded " with organ-tone and bell-like sound." Affairs of state 
were transacted in official Latin, and the scholastic philosophy pros- 
ecuted in literary Latin. 

As classical studies revived Cicero became the ideal of all the 
Latinists ; his style was the model, by reference to which they judged 
all the writers of the Middle Ages, especially the scholastic ones. 
They could scarcely find words to describe the depth of the barbarism 
of these last. Many of them fell themselves into an erroneous habit ; 
outwardly quite brilliant, but in truth a mere lifeless and mannered 
imitation and aping of the ancient classic style. A few intellectual 
men of the fifteenth century, who had a real feeling for the beauties 
of the old classics, passed impartial judgments upon this new phase 
of degeneracy, and the general philological researches and efforts of 
the age. Such were Picus of Mirandola, Politian, and Erasmus. 
Picus defended the profound old schoolmen against the unmeasured 
attacks of his friend Hermolaus Barbarus. The schoolmen, he said, 
had wisdom without eloquence ; these later men have eloquence 
without wisdom : they are heartless — all tongue. Politian wrote to a 
Ciceronian : — " On the subject of style I do not entirely agree with 
you ; since, as I hear, you approve no style except such as bears the 
impress of Cicero. For my part, I prefer the countenance of an ox 
or a lion to that of an ape, notwithstanding the latter is more like a 
man's. Those who write only imitations are parrots and magpies ; 

* I have exemplified Keppler's translations of Latin technics into German, for the sake of 
being understood by the German literati. — " Pedagogy," Vol. I., p. 269. 

t See Rudolf von Raumer, " Influence of Christianily upon the Ancient High German" 
{Die Einwirkung des Ckristenthums an/ die Althochdeutsche Sprache.) p. 153, &c. 



232 CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 

they merely say over words which they do not understand. What 
they write has neither force nor life; it is truthless, without substance 
or efiBciency." Erasmus severely lashes the mimics of Cicero, in his 
" Ciceronianusy These people, he says, who always have Cicero in 
their mouths, are a disgrace to his name. " It is wonderful," he adds, 
" with what assurance this sort of persons revile the barbarism of 
Thomas, Scotus, Durandus, and others. Yet these last, who never 
claimed that they were eloquent, nor Ciceronians,' will appear on care- 
ful examination to be much more entitled to the name than the 
former, who would pass not only for Ciceronians but for Ciceros."* 

Such was the relation between the Latin of the Middle Ages and 
the Latin which came into extensive use in the time of the revival 
of classical literature. Since the philology of those times, and the 
schools of learning which then arose, exerted an influence which is 
operative even in our own times, they need a somewhat closer ob- 
servation. 

There prevailed an unmeasured and senseless (deification of classi- 
cal authors, studies, and Latin. A few examples will show the extent 
of this worship. A certain Barrius wrote in Latin a book upon Italy, 
and called God to witness the curse which be invoked upon any one 
who should dare to translate it into Italian. *' For," said he, " I do 
not choose that this work should become a prey to the stupid judg- 
ment of a malicious, filthy, and ignorant rabble in Italy alone, and 
should shortly be forgotten ; but that it should come into the hands 
of learned men of all nations, and be immortal." The Roman dom- 
ination, he continued, and the Roman language, will extend over all 
the earth ; but books written in the vulgar tongue will soon perish. 
In like manner did the dead and forgotten countrymen of the im- 
mortal Dante treat him. 

Camerarius tells of a young man who assured liim that he would 
willingly permit himself to be beheaded, could he on that condition 
leave behind him one epigram equal to the best of Martial's. 

No less characteristic are the following expressions, which were 
used by Aesticampianus,f in 1511, at Leipzig, in a farewell lecture. 
" It was necessary," he said, " that the word of Latinity should first 
have been spoken to you ;J but, seeing ye put it from you, and judge 
yourselves unworthy of Roman eloquence, lo ! I turn to the Gentiles. 
For whom of the great poets have your forefathers not persecuted, 
and whom of those have you not scoffed at who were sent by Heav- 

* For Bacon's opinions of (he schoolmen, and their relations to the age of the Reformation, 
see " Pedagogy," Vol. I., p. 344. 

1 His real name was Rak. He was born in 1460, at Sommerfeld, and named himself after 
his birthplace. 

X See Acts, xiii., 46. 



CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 233 

en to teach you ? May you therefore live rude and empty-minded, 
savage and inglorious, and die and go to damnation, unless you do 
penance." 

We can scarcely believe our eyes in reading this. This unbounded 
deification of so-called classical training was the occasion of infinite 
efforts to speak and write classical Latin ; since by this means most 
especially could men hope to become classically educated and to be- 
come members of the literary class. 

This then was the idea of the schoolmen of the sixteenth century. 
We have already seen with what iron perseverance Johannes Sturm, 
among others, pursued the design of training his scholars into the 
mastery of speaking and writing Latin, and familiarity with the 
Roman eloquence ; and how, for the sake of doing this, he neglected 
almost every other study, and discouraged his native language as 
much as possible. 

The object was, however, not only to speak and write with ease, but 
with good Latinity ; that is, to use no word nor phrase which could 
not be found in some author of the golden or at furthest of the silver 
age. Analogy, in the opinion of most Latinists, was no rule for 
making Latin. " JVil analogice tribuimus si auctoritas ahsit " said 
Cellarius, even later. 

In order to write good Latin, these men were restricted entirely to 
imitation. " Whoever maintains that the orator can dispense with 
imitation," said Bishop Julius Pflug, "must be out of his wits; and 
whoever shall deprive oratory of imitation will destroy it utterly.'' 
Of the way in which the children were taught this imitation, Sturm's 
school is an instance ; his method was to teach his scholars so to deck 
them.selves with borrowed feathers that, wherever it was possible, no 
hearer or reader should trace the literary theft. Into what caricature 
this imitation grew the " Ciceronianus " of Erasmus shows very 
clearly. 

This practice of imitating the ancients has even continued to our 
own day. In this connection the preface of Ernesti's ^'■Jnitlce doctrince 
solidioris" is of much interest; where he gives an enumeration of the 
methods which he pursued, in preparing the very various parts of his 
book, to guard himself against violations of pure Latinity. " It was 
my first care," he said, " to secure purity of language. For this pur- 
pose, before I began writing, I sought earnestly and industriously not 
only to make myself acquainted with what the old models of Latin- 
ity — Cicero, Seneca, Pliny, &c. — have here and there said of the sub- 
ject of arithmetic and geometry, but with the writings of those de- 
voted expressly to mathematical subjects — as Frontinus, Vitruvius, &c. 

" For philosophy, Cicero alone was sufficient. I am in hopes that 



234 CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 

this industry of mine has prevented any word from creeping into my 
book which was unheard in ancient Latium ; except, in a few cases, 
when no ancient word could be found fit for my purpose, or when 
there was some other equally good reason. 

" After my care for purity in speech, my next effort — and still more 
important one — was to give my whole style such a form and such a 
clothing as completely to resemble that which the ancients would 
have used in philosophizing. After determining to write this book, 
I read often and industriously the philosophical and rhetorical writ- 
ings of Cicero, taking the utmost pains not only to clearly understand 
his definitions and conclusions, his refutation of errors and his sug- 
gestions and solutions of doubts, but also thoroughly to acquire a 
power of imitating his acute and tasteful method of expression. How 
far I have succeeded others must judge." 

Despite of his care to write Nihil veleri Latio inauditum, Ernesti 
found himself under the necessity of using some unclassical philo- 
sophical and mathematical expressions ; as, for instance, the word 
"quotient." "This word,'' he says, "is well suited to the thing, had 
its use only been known to the ancients." 

Le Clerc advises, for the purpose of avoiding violation of Latinity, 
and to enter fully into the spirit of it, in the first place, only to write 
on such subjects as are agreeable to the genius of the Latin language; 
and he says that such people as pay more attention to the language 
than to the matter of their books usually write better Latin. 

Suppose, however, the advice of Le Clerc and others to be followed — 
that the best imitation of the old classics is the highest literary attain- 
ment — that no word or sentence is to be written which Cicero or 
Livy would not have written just so — what is to be said for the 
originality of the latter writers of Latin ? In the opinion of the 
writers themselves, very much. The theory of imitation of Johan- 
nes Sturm and others, as we have seen, taught so to imitate that the 
reader should not observe it, and should think himself reading an 
original. But who, even moderately acquainted with Cicero, could 
fail easily to trace the origin of this pseudo-original writing. 

Exceedingly naive, and in agreement with Sturm and the " Cicero- 
nianus" of Erasmus, is what Julius Pogianus says on this point. 
"There is no doubt that the best should always be imitated :" Cicero is 
by far the best of the ancient classics ; and thus he, Pogianus, readily 
disposes of the rest of the ancients. There are also hypcr-Ciceroni- 
ans, who, in the most lamentable manner, write nothing original, but 
are only clumsy and unlucky mimics. From such he separates him- 
self; making a distinction as follows : when he meets with a good 
phrase in Cicero, he transfers it to another subject. For instance, ha 



CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 235 

reads Rutilii adolescentiam ad opinionem et innocentlce et jurispruden- 
tice, P. Sccevolce commendavit domus. Nobody can find fault with 
him for changing this into Hannihalis adolescentiam ad opinionem 
et eloquentice et philosophice Nobilii consuetudo commendavit. There 
are also prominent phrases : such as Nequid nimis, Late patet invidia, 
and the like. When the imitator, instead of these, writes Tenendum 
est omnium rerum modus, and Nihil nan occupat invidia, who shall 
assert that the phrase is not his ? 

In this manner the thoughts of others pass as those of the writer. 
He even sometimes dares to vie with Cicero in antithetical points. In- 
stead of Cicero's In Icetitia doleo, he says In dolore Icetor ; and, in- 
stead of Tardius faceres, hoc est, ut ego interpretor, diligentius, he 
says Celerius, id est negligentius. And, in conclusion, he recommends 
to learn many portions of Cicero by heart, in order to have a good 
stock of materials on hand for altering and varying. Is it not almost 
incomprehensible, to any man of common sense, how any one 
could frankl)- and seriously propose such apish exercises as an ideal 
of training in classical literature ? 

In spite of all this dishonest struggle to do as the Romans did, 
there were already great complaints of the degeneracy of Laticity. 
"Scarcely one in a hundred," says Ferrarius, "writes purely and 
without errors ; and scarce one in a thousand has any critical judg- 
ment upon Latinity." And Vavassor says: "Very seldom is there 
one who knows what it is to write and speak good Latin ; and almost 
nobody who can do either both or one of them." In like manner 
complain Caselius, Schelhamer, and others ; and indeed, from the six- 
teenth century down to our own times, there has been a constant lam- 
entation over the neglect and degeneracy of Latinity.* Even Sturm, 
who made every exertion to train his scholars to virtuosoship in the 
Roman eloquence, complains that nearly all shrank back from the 
necessary drill, and only a few accomplished any thing. He mourns 
over the barbarity of the age ; and says men use barbarian words 
instead of those strictly Latin, and that all elegance is utterly extinct. 
Caspar Scioppius even wrote a book upon the barbarisms and sole- 
cisms of Joseph Scaliger, Casaubon, and Lipsius. Scaliger, in par- 
ticular, in his celebrated work "Z)e emendatione temporum^'' was guilty 
of so many faults that Morus occupied a great part of the preface of 
the second edition of the work with apologies for the concealment of 
them. Vavassor wonders not so much that the passionate Salmasius 
should have committed so many solecisms as that Milton, in reproach- 
ing Salmasius with them, should himself have permitted to be printed 

♦Many of these complaints of modern date are given by Director Schmidt, in his " Pro- 
gramme of the Gymnasium at Wittenberg J" 1844, p. 6; and in those of Petrenoz, Meiring 
LaufT, &c. 



236 CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 

such an error a? Salmasius vapuloMdum se prcebuit. Notwitbstand* 
ing all the pains which Ernesti took to write faultless Latin, Fr. Aug. 
Wolf calls attention to them. 

Such was the ideal of the imitators; so great their efforts to reach 
it, and so unsatisfactory their success. 

We must, however, allow that these efforts had some result so long 
as Latin was the current language of learning. But it is historically 
true that the ancient languages, after the time of the Reformation, and 
particularly after Luther's unsurpassed translation of the Bible, were 
gradually driven back by the Gerinan. 

Latin books grew fewer, and German books grew more frequent; 
and German academical lectures took the place of the Latin ones. 
At last, during the letter part of the eighteenth century, German lit- 
erature attained so much of classical character, the notion that virtu- 
osoship in writing Latin was necessary to a good education quite dis- 
appeared. That accomplishment was not possessed by those whom, 
at that time, Germany honored as its greatest minds. At present, 
even philologists and educators admit that no reason for the attain- 
ment of skill in writing or speaking fine Latin is to be found in the 
present condition of church or state affairs, nor from that of litera- 
ture. Shall our scholars therefore continue in their old and almost 
helpless efforts to imitate classic writers of the golden age, merely to 
distinguish themselves by a Latin composition at a graduating ex- 
amination, or at Latin examinations or disputations ? and, when these 
are discontinued, which may happen at any moment, shall every rea- 
son for exertion disappear ? 

Every external reason, I hear it said in reply, but not the inner 
and intellectual reason ; the speaking and writing of Latin, as a 
means for the formal purposes of the schools, ought never to be dis- 
continued. To this a philologist and educator (Prof. Wurm, of Hof,) 
answers as follows : "This formal training seems to be nothing but an 
expedient to conform the Latin language, as far as possible, to the re- 
quirements of the age, and at least to save it as a means, after it has 
ceased to be a principal end, of instruction." 

I am very much mistaken if Herr Professor Wurm did not intend 
to allude exclusively to those who maintain that each and every 
scholar should be made competent to write fine Latin. For it is 
asked, Shall there be no Latin written in the schools ? No practical 
person would answer in the affirmative. 

^Latin should be written just as much as it is necessary to write 
any language, in order to master it thoroughly. Writing for this 
purpose is, so to speak, the productive exercise of grammar, which 
should go parallel with the receptive exercises of reading and memo- 



CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 237 

rizing from the classics. " The writing of Latin " says Hector Blunje, 
" may as well be given up, except as a means to an end ; that is, for. 
fixing the knowledge of grammar, and for directing the attention 
more thoroughly to the characteristics of foreign idioms. And Mad- 
wig says : " Writing Latin can now only be regarded as a means of 
improvement, not of instruction ; as the means for securing an ac- 
quaintance with the language which shall be complete, sure, vivid, and 
appreciative of the characteristics of its expressions; in short, a re- 
ceptive knowledge of the Latin in its parts and its whole, and of its 
differences from our own language." 

" We wholly agree with these views," I hear some learned philolo- 
gists say. "Let it be agreed that the writing of Latin in our gymna- 
sia is merely an exemplification of grammar. Now, however, gram- 
mar includes all the language, from the first declension up to the 
completest syntax; it rejects as well the least barbarism as the gross- 
est solecism. How and where will you set the limits of this exem- 
plification ? " We reply, Can not tliese limits be fixed where a 
distinction has already been long established — where the specific 
distinction is recognised between mere Latin school grammar, 
and the grammar of learned philologists? Has not the distinc- 
tion been long recognizu^d between grammatice scrihere and Latine 
scribere; the former being the business of scholars and the latter of 
the trained philologist ? That thoroughness of training and complete 
living amongst the ancient classics, which alone can fit for the Latine 
scribere, neither can nor should any more be cultivated by the 
wretched scraping together and. memorizing of Latin phrases ; nor 
will there be any more education to a mere show of facility in Latine 
scribere. 

To this the advocates of an elaborate Latin style reply, "We are 
not in favor of virtuosoship in writing Latin ; but only of a thorough 
understanding by the learner of the idioms of that language, and of 
its specific differences from German. Nothing is so efficient for this 
purpose as the practice of intelligent translation from strictly German 
composition into a strictly Latin style ; and nothing can be a more 
intellectually useful practice than that of such a comparison of two 
languages.'' 

We are far from denying that such a practice is useful ; but we can 
not admit the expediency of subjecting mere school -pupils to an ej^er- 
cise which is properly only the business of philologists by profession. 
Such professional studies, in language as well as in other departments, 
belong only to the universities. The complaint has been often and 
with good reason made by educators, that the instruction in our 
schools is often adjusted as if either all the scholars were to be phil 



238 CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 

ologists or were philologists already. " But," it may be asked, " are 
scholars then not to enjoy the benefit of so useful a study ? " Of 
course they are, but only in a different way ; namely, by means of the 
corrected and most thorough kind of translation, from Latin into Ger- 
man. This may very properly be a study for the higher classes of 
our gymnasia ; but translation from German into Latin belongs only 
to philologists, and thus both the one and the other will receive their 
appropriate benefit from a continued and thorough parallel study of 
the languages, authenticated by translating. 

That it is easier to translate into the mother-tongue than from it 
into a foreign one all will agree, with the exception of those very 
few to whom foreign languages become a second nature. The reason 
can not here be fully investigated ; we can say only a few words 
about it, as follows : — When the pupil sets himself to translate a 
passage from Cicero, for instance, he seeks first the meaning, and 
then the correct German expression. The meaning, however, comes 
to hira of course in German words ; and the better his understanding 
of the passage, the more suitable will be the words. The seeking 
and the finding of the right meaning and the right expression are 
naturally one and the same mental operation. But, in translating 
from German into Latin, his task is wholly different. He already 
understands the German expression ; and his question is. How would 
a Roman — Cicero above all — have said this in Latin ? He then pro- 
ceeds to search amongst the Latin phrases in his memory, for some 
one which may serve his turn — always under the rule Nihil veteri 
Latio inauditum scribere. This, wliicli would be a pleasant occupa- 
tion to a philologist, working with a full mind, is to the school-boy a 
disagreeable and unprofitable exertion. It is also the more unpleas- 
ant because he must usually commit to memory, in order to it, much 
material wholly without interest to him ; and, in his reading, leads 
him off into a useless phrase-hunt, which entirely diverts his atten- 
tion from the real meaning of the author. 

I may now repeat, without any apprehension of misunderstanding, 
that scholars should Write Latin for the exemplification of their school 
grammar studies, they should write it in the same sense and to the 
same extent as Friedrich August Wolf advises to write Greek. " I 
have always found," he says, " in my own experience, that those make 
themselves most thoroughly masters of any language who write 
much in it — both its forms and its syntactical combinations ; and in 
that respect I perceive no difference between the ancient and the 
modern languages. For mastering either, the exemplification of its 
grammar, by his own exercises, must be the immediate aim of the 
scholar; and in the third and second hrms {Tertia und Secunda,) 



CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 239 

such themes may be composed as shall require some finish in style ; 
but for the most part such as are composed of short sentences, and 
none others." 

With this design school-books have been prepared for translating 
the German into Greek ; to exemplify its grammar, and thus to 
faciliate the thorough comprehension of the Greek classics. In doing 
this there has been no idea of carrying the scholars so far as to en- 
able them to write classical Greek as good as Zenophon's, after the 
usual fashion of fixing a level of attainment in writing Latin by the 
persistent imitation of some normal stylist. At least, such was 
Wolf's idea. " The writing of Greek," he says, " is not learned at 
the present day, as Gesner, Ernesti, Dawes, and other connoisseurs 
who tried it, found out." " No drill in German style ! " he says in 
another place. 

If it is argued that no study of Latin can be thorough which does 
not include the attainment of virtuosoship in speaking and writing, 
then it must be admitted that the same is requisite in the acquire- 
ment of any other language, and of the Greek as well. But this 
would imply that only those can thoroughly understand Homer, 
Sophocles, and Plato who are connoisseurs in writing Greek ; and 
therefore that our greatest philologists, even Wolf himself, have not 
understood Homer. 

Many eminent men of learning, and able philologists among them, 
have declared against this confessedly fruitless endeavor to qualify 
school-boys to write and speak classical Latin. Let us hear some of 
their opinions. 

Locke says : " If a boy is set to learn Latin in a school, he' writes 
Latin exercises and makes compositions and verses, with no further 
object than to be able to understand a Latin author ; not to become 
himself a Latin speaker and poet." 

The well-known Johann Matthias Gesner relates that Christian 
Thomasius was the first who delivered German lectures at a German 
university — all those of previous date having been in Latin ; and he 
adds that this was not so much because Latin was becoming disused, 
as from the exceedingly bad Latin that the lecturers used. " Therefore 
it happened," he continues, "that educated men, who understood 
Latin, declared for German, and in favor of teaching in German, 
while the half-barbarians on the other hand defended the Latin. 
Even royal commands failed to put a stop to the practice of teaching 
in German." If this distinguished philologist had to allow that 
speaking Latin could no longer be required even of the representa- 
tives of German learning, and even that requiring instruction to be 
given in Latin necessarily caused the destruction of Latinity, from 



240 CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 

whom then would he require connoisseurs in speaking it ? From 
among the scholars in gymnasia ? 

A Prussian ordinance of the year 1811, it is true, required Latin 
orations from graduates. " Latin speaking, truly ! " remarks Fried- 
rich August Wolf, the most competent judge. ".Not three learned 
men in each of our renowned universities can do it ; often not even 
the very professor eloquentice ; and not six per cent, of the teachers 
in schools." 

As ironically Wolf disposes of the requirement to write Latin. 
*' To write in a language," he says, " does not belong within the 
sphere of the study of it. A man can be well acquainted with an- 
tiquity and not be able to write well in its language. The great 
scholars in Latin usually write it badly." "Few will attain real 
facility in writing Latin," he says elsewhere ; " since the very great 
practice, and that contrary to Nature, who has indicated one language 
for men as she has one native land, is requisite for this purpose : and 
only those venture to make a great outcry for this object who are 
themselves unable to attain it."* 

With this opinion of Wolf's Jacob Grimm coincides, although on 
very different grounds. " Language," he says, " is an unconscious 
and unperceived mystery, which is found implanted within the hearts 
of the young, and which fits our organs of speech for the native 
accent, declensions, inflections, and hard or soft characteristics. 
From this inborn sense arises the ineradicable longing feeling that 
comes upon a man when he hears his native language amongst stran- 
gers. Hence, also, the unlearnahleness of a foreign tongue — that is, 
of the radical and thorough acquisition of it for speaking and writing. 
According to Tzetzes, the "double nature" of Cecrops was his knowl- 
edge of two languages (Greek and Egyptian.) It is really true that 
he who acquires two languages has two bodies and two souls.f 

Wolf and Grimm have thus taken a position upon the German side 
of the question. So also has Herr Rector Hartung, in Schleusingen. 
" The usual practice of writing Latin," he remarks, " is in fact nothing 
but a mechanical botching up together of parts from a scanty store of 
words, phrases, and forms, with the help of lexicons and grammars." 
Professor Wurm says the same. " Every one, who has half-way ar- 
rived at a mastery of writing and speaking Latin, whether is he not 
as it were about to appear as a ghost of himself; to really give up 
his German nature, in order to become a Latinist ?" This may remind 

• Wolf, when he requires facility in writing Latin, in his " Museum of Ancient Learn- 
ing," requires it by no means of any and every scholar, biit only of philologists by profes- 
sion. 

tBeneke's "Erziehungsund Unferrichtxlehre," U., 237. His principles of instruction In 
foreign languages are based, in instruction in Latin especially, in the writing of it. 



CLASSICAL INerrRUCTION. 241 

tlie reader of Ennius, who boasted that he had three souls, because 
he understood Greek, Oscan, and Latin. And do boys attain the 
degree of objectivity which is indispensable for learning a dead lan- 
guage ? They leave off studying, in fact, just as they begin to attain 
it. I even maintain that to attempt to teach a boy Latin to the 
extent of writing it presupposes the most thorough ignorance of the 
language in the teachers. 

Most of what Herr Wurm says about writing Latin, in his work 
above quoted, bears the impression of having originated in a desperate 
experience as a teacher. Latin writing, he complains, is even to this 
day the basis of the gymnasial instruction ; every thing is referred to 
a Latin style — a Latin production is the chief condition of successful 
graduation. Pupils are only to learn Latin so far as to be able to 
read it and understand it, and they will find the Latin grammar a 
universal grammar for all languages to be learned afterward, and the 
Latin a preparation for all the Romanic languages. " For all these 
objects," concludes Prof. Wurm, " a gymnasium course, restricted to 
reading, and without writing,* would be sufficient." 

What he says about writing Latin has a double force as applied to 
Latin speaking, where the scholar, improvising thoughts which came 
to him in German, must on the spot unclothe them of their words 
and reclothe them with Latin ones.f If he can not perform this 
operation with groat quickness, he falls into a most painful stammer- 
ing of Latin, unless he should instead, as is usual, entirely forego 
thinking, and merely bring together a set of memorized phrases, 
which may be used any where, and mean nothing. 

Goethe has some valuable remarks upon the speaking of foreign 
languages. *' Shall I speak French ? " he says, " a foreign tongue, 
which always makes the speaker seem sill}' ; in which one may take 
what position he chooses, and can only express himself about com- 
mon aflaii-s — only coarse distinctions. But what distinguishes the 
blockhead from the man of intellect, except that the latter quickly, 
vividly, and accurately comprehends delicate distinctions and whatever 
is most appropriate for the present moment, and expresses them with 
liveliness ; while the latter, as every body must in a foreign tongue, 
has to help himself under all circumstances from the same lot of 
veteran stereotyped phrases."^ Few will attain to facility in writing 

* In this exclusion of writing, Prof Wurm no doubt does not comprehend writing: for the 
exemplification of the school grammar. 

t We need scarcely state here that this Latin speaking does not include the oral translation 
of short sentences, usual in the lower classes, in exemplifying school grammar. 

t In connection with this remark of Goethe's we may say that the spread of the French 
language in Europe should not be taken as an indication of the extent of actual preference 
for it. The French language ofTers an especial abundance of "veteran stereotyped phrases" 
for all kinds of occasions; and thus equalizes " intellectual men and blockheads." It is on 



242 CLASSICAL INSTRUCTIOW. 

Latin, says Wolf. Another distinguished philologist inquires, How 
many of our living men of learning can write original Latin with in- 
dependence and freedom ? and he answers, There are perhaps three. 
Wolf was speaking of philologists ; what would he have said of 
scholars ? To train them to a real facility in writing Latin is out of 
the question ; they can at most be forced into an unsound and mim- 
icking method. The truth is that, for this facility, it is not only req- 
uisite to have "two souls" but to get rid of the German soul. Soul- 
lessness is requisite. 

This method of disciplining our German youth in writing Latin 
leads to the unfortunate consequence of a mischievous degeneracy in 
writing German itself; for the pupils learn to write the latter as they 
have done the former. That is, instead of developing mental habits 
and powere that will enable them to select words, to form correct ex- 
pressions, and write them well, by practice in writing their thoughts 
in their native language, and in their natural order and simplicity, 
they become entirely disused to this natural process, by means of their 
Latin school-exercises, and only hitch together German phrases, as 
they have Latin ones. If Cicero will not serve them for a model of 
German style and a purveyor of phrases, they immediately look up 
some German author to put in his place, and from him they gather 
words, style, and phraseology. 

Thus they become trained up as mannerists in their own language — 
to intellectual pharisaism — to a lifeless and ghostlike style. Number- 
less scholars, thus miseducated, hold fast all their lives to this school 
ideal, make school exercises all their lives, and remain all their lives 
in the illusion that their facility in putting together crude borrowed 
phrases is classical attainment. Of Latin-German phraseologists, so 
educated, Goethe says : — 

" If you feel it not, you can never hunt it up : 

If it does not burst out of your soul, 

And with deep-sealed pleasure 

Seize upon the heart of every hearer, 

Sit still there ! stick together 

And brew hashes from other men's meat ; 

And blow at the scanty flame 

That comes out of your little heaps of ashes, 

The astonishment of children and of apes, 

Because you can open your mouths so wide. 

But you can never wield the hearts of others. 

Because the words do not come from your own. 

Even those very orations of yours, which are so splendid, 

In which you chop up manhood into shreds, 

Are unrefreshing as the misty wind 

That in the aatumn rustles through the dry leaves." 

this account that it has gained -so much favor ; as an arbitrary substitute for thought and edu- 
cation. How many court ladies probably valued themselves over Goethe, because they could 
chatter French ! 



CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 243 

The poet can mean nothing by his " Sit still there ! stick together 
and brew hashes of other men's meat," unless he refers to the lifeless 
labor of gathering together Latin phrases ; of brewing hashes out of 
Cicero and Livy, and then of doing the same over again in German ? 
IIow many of our preachers weary themselves in efforts of the same 
kind after excellence of style ; and how entirely are their discourses 
destitute of the freshness and liveliness of an extempore address ! 
Might one not very naturally, in desperation at their elaborate noth- 
ings, go so far as to wish that they had had no training at all in lan- 
guage ; and that their only rhetorical rule had been, Speak and write 
plainly the words that naturally come into your mouth. 

"Not only of dry horailists," says Herder, "but even of able 
speakers, must it often be complained that, even from their earliest 
youth, their style has been formed upon the Latin, and that the peri- 
odic ceremonious tone which spread in the schools from the Latin to 
the German classes, shows itself even amongst their best thoughts. 
I shall only attack the immense error of the belief that Cicero is a 
model of style, perfect and without blemish, and that to imitate him 
is originality ! that a dozen bombastic expressions, such as they use 
in the schools, will make young Ciceros ; and that a clear and lucid 
style in their native language is consistent with the Latin periodic 
structure." 

Entirely opposed to the untoward influence of such exercises is the 
influence of an intelligent reading of the classics upon German style. 
Wieland said : " I learned to write German from Cicero's letters." He 
had gained a clearer style, and a more adequate manner of express- 
ing his thoughts, from that master. For this purpose translation from 
Latin and Greek classics is very much to be recommended. It 
obliges the student to enter into the meaning of the author and into 
the spirit of the language ; proves his understanding or not under- 
standing it; and is the best practice in the technics of writing Ger- 
man. This practice makes but little demand upon the productive 
power of the pupil, but trains his susceptivity. The more fully he 
enters into the meaning of his author the better will be his German 
translation. 

Tn conclusion, we have three remarks' to make : — 

1. The opinion has been expressed that only in the department of 
speaking and writing Latin does the realist system of education admit 
of being introduced, as opposed to the humanist system. The real- 
ists scofiingly inquire how it is that, after ten years of labor, Latin 
students show so little facility in writing and speaking it ? It is only 
by the attainment of connoisseurship in those studies, by exhibiting 



244 CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 

some such tangible result from the gymnasium studies, that the 
mouths of these adversaries can be stopped. 

But it would be a great mistake to suppose that the realists would 
be contented with that attainment ; or even that they would suffer it 
to be required. They would demand, still more vehemently. To what 
end this so great expenditure of time and strength for a useless 
accomplishment ? With whom can a man converse intelligibly in 
Latin ? He will not do it for his own pleasure, nor ever, unless abso- 
lutely obliged to. We have very clear reasons for writing and speak- 
ing English and French ; but, for doing it in Latin, none is visible — 
unless you aim at realizing Comenius' dream of making Latin a 
universal lan^uaffe for the human race. 

The realists would have no such efforts made. And there is no 
cause for the apprehensions that many feel that the doing away 
with writing and speaking Latin would open the door to a realist 
barbarism. And to this barbarism is the barbarous Latin which we 
hear in disputations, in dissertations, and examinations to be opposed ? 
is one barbarism to be set up against another ? By no means. 

2. Even if the gymnasium should undertake to satisfy the extremes 
of these demands for speaking and writing Latin — which, as is well 
known, they can not do — the result would be the greatest injury to 
the whole method of Latin instruction. At present all the labor and 
time are saved which were bestowed upon collecting and memorizing 
of Ciceronian phrases, that they might be always at hand for writing 
and speaking. Many grammatical minutiae are also got rid of which 
were learned by anticipation, for future use in the same way ; being 
now omitted until found in the course of reading. How many pe- 
culiarities of the rarest kind, nay, even strange and monstrous, which 
the beginner has been, and even still is, obliged to commit to memory, 
would never occur, even to a diligent reader of classics, in his life I 

3. The time thus gained should be used especially in acquiring 
Greek ; and the two classical languages should be learned as nearly 
in the same manner as possible.* At present, as we have seen, there 
is on an average twice as much time given to Latin, in the two gym- 
nasia, as to Greek. 

How very few are there who leave school able to read even the 
easier Greek classics with facility, or even without the constant use of 

• Beneke and Dr. Schmid express the same opinion. The latter says : " Latin has now lost 
tile place of a living language in our gymnasia, and the Latin literature its pre-eminence over 
the Greek." As far as that youth may learn Latin before Greek, and therefore come to the 
latter at a riper and better prepared age, so far should more time be devoted to the former; 
and it is another good reason for learning it more thoroughly than Greek that it is much more 
useful in all manner of study. This is evident upon the merest glince at tlie history of Euro- 
pean civilization. 



CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 245 

a dictionary ! But who that desires real education, and not a mere 
vain show, would not in his manhood gladly exchange the usual 
blundering knowledge of writing and speaking Latin for facility in 
comprehending the Greek classics ? 



II. CARDINAL WOLiEV'S PLAN OF INSTRUCTION FOR THE GRAMMAR SCHOOL AT 

IPSWICH, 1528. 
The celebrated Letter of Cardinal Wolsey,* addressed to the masters 
of the grammar school at Ipswich, prescribes, with almost professional 
minuteness, the precise method of classical instruction which was 
afterward confirmed by the ordinances and practices of the leading 
public seminaries of learning throughout the kingdom. Although 
Cardinal Wolsey was a schoolmaster before he was either churchman 
or statesman, he was probably indebted to Erasmus not only for the 
general scheme but for the language — whole sentences being taken, 
word for word, from the writings of that eminent scholar. 

fTHOMAS CARDINAL OF VORK, 4,C., TO THE MASTERS OF IPSWICH SCHOOL, GREETING. 

We suppose no one to be ignorant with what mental effort, zeal, and industry 
we have alwaj's directed our labors to this point ; not with a view to our own 
private advantage, but as far as possible to consult the welfare of our country, and 
of all our fellow-subjects. In which one object we consider we shall reap the 
richest fruit of patriotism, if with divine blessing we should adorn by cultivation 
the minds of our countrymen. Influenced therefore by a warmth of affection in- 
credibly great toward our birth-place, which claims our exertions by its own right, 
we have dedicated a school, not wholly without elegance as a building, as the 
clearest testimony of our perfect love. But since there seemed but little done in 
having built a school, however magnificent the structure, unless there should be 
added skillful masters, we have endeavored by all means to appoint as its presi- 
dents two masters duly selected and approved : under whose tuition the youth of 

* Cardinal Wolsey was a munificent patron of learning, as his foundation of Christ College 
at Oxford, and of the grammar school at his native town of Ipswich, witnesseth. His plan 
for the latter, as preparatory for the former, contemplated ample endowments out of the lands 
and tenemeuts belonging to the monastery of St. Peter, and other suppressed priories In that 
town and neighborhood, intending, as he himself said, in a letter addressed to Court de Beau- 
mont, grand marshal of France, that " Many scholars should be brought up and maintained 
therein, and always trained in virtue, to the end that a perpetual memory of God shall be 
kept and honored." The building, for which ho arranged with the French Count to bring 
over stone from a new quarry at Caen, was never finished, and the revenues appropriated 
for its endowment were seized by his enemies, after his fall from power. The school itself 
went into operation, and a new charter was granted by Henry VIII., which was renewed and 
enlarged by Elizabeth, in 1565. Under this charter the school is still administered. 

t Thomas Cardinalis Eboracensis, ^e., Gypsuirhiana schoUB praeptoribus, S. D. 

Neminem latere putamus. quanto animi conatu, studio, industria, hue semper lahorcs 
nostros destinaverimus, iion ut nostris privatim commodis, sed uti patriae civibusque nostris 
omnibus, quam plurimum consuleremus. Qua una in re, amplissimum pietatis fructum nos 
assecuturos esse arbitramur, si divhio aliquo munere popularium nostrorum animos exorna- 
remus. Proinde, maximo incredibilique pietatis ardore erga patriam affecti, quae nos veluti 
jure quodam sibi vindicat, ludum literarium non omnino inelegantem, velut amoris summi 
erga eandem nostri clarissimum testimonium, dedicavimus. Verum quoniani parum visum 
est ludum quamtumvis magnificum exfruxisse, nisi etiam accesserit prceceptornm peritia, 
modis omnibus dedimus operam, ut nos quos prjeceptores electos probatosque hnic praefice- 
remus: sub quibus Britannica pube-s statim a primis annis et mores et lueras imbiberet ; 
nimirum intelligentes in hac EEtale, velut herba, spem reipublics positam esse. Id quod 
felicius maturiusque conseqneretur, libello puerilis instructionis methodumque ac rationem 
docendi, apprime huic pubi necessariam, omni nostra cura, studio, diligentia, ut haberetis, 
curavimus. Vestrae paries erunt nunc vicissim, qui huic novae scholce nostra; prajceptores 



246 CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 

Britain, from their earliest years, might imbibe morality and learning; naturally 
considering that the hope of the whole state rests on this stage of life, as that of 
the harvest on the blade of corn. And that this might succeed more happily and 
early, we have provided, with all care, zeal, and diligence, that, in a little treatise 
on the instruction of boys, you should have the method and plan of teaching prin- 
cipally necessary for this tender age. It will now in turn be your part, who are 
masters in our new school, here to exercise the boys with diligence in the rudi- 
ments of education ; that, as well in elegance of literature as in purity of morals, 
they may advance in due order to higher views. And, if you strive after this ob- 
ject as carefully as we shall exhibit the plan before your eyes, you will not only 
now, while we earnestly favor your pursuits, lay us under obligation to yourselves, 
but you will absolutely make us survive on happy terms with all posterity. 
From our own palace, Sept. 1, A. D. 1528. 

In what order boys, admitted into our academy, should be taught, and what 
authors should be lessoned to them. 

METHOD FOR THE FIRST CLASS, 

In the first place, it has been not improperly resolved that our school be divided 
into eight classes. The first of these to contain the less forward boys, who 
should be diligently exercised in the eight parts of speech ; and whose now flexible 
accent it should be your chief concern to form — making them repeat the elements 
assigned them, with the most distinct and delicate pronunciation — since raw ma- 
terial may be wrought to any shape whatever ; and, according to Horace, 

" The odors of the wine that first shall etain 
The virgin vessel, it will long retain ; " 

on which account it were least proper to deprive this time of life of due care. 

FOR THE SECOND CLASS. 

Next in order, after pupils of this age have made satisfactory progress in the 
first rudiments, we should wish them to be called into the second form, to prac- 
tice speaking Latin, and to render into Latin some English proposition ; which 
should not be without point or pertinence, but should contain some piquant or 
beautiful sentiment, sufficiently suitable to the capacity of boys. As soon as this 
is rendered, it should be set down in Roman characters ; and you will daily pay 
attention that each of the whole party have this note-book perfectly correct, and 
written as fairly as possible with his own hand. 

Should you think proper that, besides the rudiments, some author should be 
given at this tender age, it may be either Lily's Carmen Monitorium or Cato's 
Precepts ; that is, with a view of forming the accent. 

FOR THE THIRD CLASS. 

Of authors who mainly conduce to form a familiar stylo — pure, terse, and pol- 
ished — who is more humorous than ^sop ? AVho more useful than Terence? 

estis, hie rudimentis ac docendi ratione diligenter exercere hos pueros : deinceps cum elegant- 
issima literatura, turn optimis moribus ad niajora profecturos. Ad qund si pari cura enitim- 
ini, atque nos ad oeulum vobis commonstraturi numus, nos non lam vobis ve.stro studio im- 
pense favenlesjani demerebimini, quam plane apiid posteros felices reddideritis. Bene Talete 
Ex ajdibus nostris, Anno Domini millesimo quingentesimo vigesimo octavo, calend. Sep- 
tembris. 

Quo ordine pueri, in nostrum gymnasium admissi, docendi sint ; quique authores iiadenx 

prmlegendi. 

PRIMJE CLASSIS METHODtJS. 

Principio, Fcholani banc nostram in classes octo partiendam esse non incongru§ placnit. 
Quarum prima pueros rudiores in octo orationis partibiis diligenter exercendos contineat. 
Quorum OS tenerum formare prsecipua cura vobis sit: utpote qui et apertissima et elegant- 
issima vocis proiiunciatione, tradita elementa proferant : siquidem rudem matriam licet ad 
quodvis effinsere ; et Horatio nionete, Quo semfl est imhuta recens serrabit odorem testa diu. 
Quamobrem hanc jetatem justa vestra cura defraudare minime par est. 

SECCND^ CLASSIS. 

Deindg, postquam aetas hcPC satis feliciter illis primis rudimentis adulta profpcerit, earn in 
secundum ordiiiem vocari velimus, ad usum loquendi Lating, et ad vertendum in Latinum 
aliquod propositum vulgare : non insulsum neque ineptum; sed quod argutam aliquam aut 
venustam habeat sententiam, quae ab ingenio puerili non nimium abhorreat. Qnod simul ac 
versum fuerit, quam mox characteribus Rumanis mandari oportcbit ; dabitisque operam 



CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 247 

Both of wliom, from the very nature of their subjects, are not without attraction 
to the age of youth. 

Furthermore, we should not disapprove of your subjoining, for this form, tho 
little book composed by Lily on the genders of nouns. 

FOR THE FOURTH CLASS. 

Again, when you exercise the soldiership of the fourth class, what general 
would you rather have than Virgil himself, the prince of all poets ? Whose maj- 
esty of verse, it were worth vehile, should be pronounced with due intonation of 
voice. 

As well adapted to this form, Lily will furnish the past tenses and supines of 
verbs. But although I confess such things are necessary, yet, as far as possible, 
we could wish them so appointed as not to occupy the more valuable part of the 
day. 

FOR THE FIFTH CI.AeS. 

And now, at length, you wish to know what plan of teaching we would here 
prescribe. Your wish sliall be indulged. One point that we think proper to be 
noticed, as of first importance, is, that the tender age of youth be never urged 
with severe blows, or harsh threats, or indeed with any sort of tyranny. For by 
this injurious treatment all sprightliness of genius either is destroyed or is at any 
rate considerably damped. 

With regard to what this form should be taught, your principal concern will 
be to lesson them in some select epistles of Cicero ; as none other seem to us 
more easy in their style, or more productive of rich copiousness of language. 

FOR THE SIXTH CLASS. 

Moreover, the sixth form seems to require some history, either that of Sallust 
or Ca;sar's Commentaries. To these might not improperly be added Lily's Syn- 
tax ; verbs defective and irregular; in short, any you may uotice, in the course 
of reading, as departing from the usual form of declination. 

FOR THE SEVENTH CLASS. 

The party in the seventh form should regularly have in hand either Horace's 
Epistles, or Ovid's MeUimorphoses, or Fasti ; occasionally composing verse or an 
epistle of their own. It will also be of very great importance that they some- 
time turn verse into prose, or reduce prose into meter. In order that what is 
learnt by hearing may not be forgotten, the boy should reperuse it with you, or 
with others. Just before retiring to rest he should study something choice, or 
worthy of remembrance, to repeat to the master the next morning. 

At intervals attention should be relaxed, and recreation introduced : but recrea- 
tion of an elegant nature, worthy of polite literature. Indeed, even with his stud- 

quotirlie, ut libellos quam emendatissimos, quamqiie elegantissime sua quisque manu scrip- 
tos habeat universusgrex. 

Si autborem ali(iuem prretcr rurtitnenta, adliibendum tetiellee pubi censueritis, id erit vel 
Lilii Carmen Monitorium ; vel preecepia Catoiiis ; nimirum lormandi oris gratia. 

TERTI* CLASSIS. 

Ex aulhoribus, qui ad qnotidiannm sernionem punitn, tersum. elimatum, magnoper^ con- 
ducunt, quis facetior, quam jEsopus ? aut quani Ter. utilior ? Uterque vel ipso argumenti 
genere adolescentia; iion iiijucundus. 

Rursiim, liuic ordini de nomlnum generibus libellum quern Lilius conscripserat, si adjunx- 
eritis. noii improbaverimus. 

QUART JE Cr.ASSIS. 

Praetei-ea, cum quarts classis militiam exercebitis, quern ducem maliti.s, quam ipsum Vir^ 
gilium, omnium poetaium principem, vobis dari ? Cujus majestatem carminis, voce bene 
sonora, efferendnm esse opercc prelium fuerit. 

Verbonim proeterita et supina huic ordini convenientia commodabit Lilius. Verum ut 
hujusmodi fateor necessaria, itavelimus tamen tradi, quoad fieri possit, ut potiorem diei 
pai-tem non occupent. 

tlUINT.«: CLASSIS. 

Nunc demum video vos cupere, quam docendi rationeni hie prajcipiamus. Agite, mos 
geratur vobis. In primis hoc unum admonendum censuerimus, ut neque plagis severioribus, 
neque voltuosis minis, aut ulla tyrannidis specie, tenera pubes afliciatur. Hac euim injuria 
ingenii alacritas aut extingui, aut magna ex parte obtundi solet. 

SEXTjE CLASSIS. 

Porro, sextus ordo historlam aliquam, vel Sallustii, aut Commentarorum Csesaris, postulare 



248 CLASSICAL INSTRUCTION. 

ies pleasure should be so intimately blended that a boy may think it rather a game 
at learning than a task. And caution must be used, lest by immoderate exer- 
tion the faculties of learners be overwhelmed, or be fatigued by reading very Car 
prolonged : for either way alike there is a fault. 

FOR THE EIGHTH CLASS. 

Lastly, when by exercise of this kind the party has attained to some profi- 
ciency in conversation-style, they should be recalled to the higher precepts of 
grammar ; as, for instance, to the figures prescribed by Donatus, to the elegance 
of Valla, and to any ancient authors whatever in the Latin tongue. In lessoning 
from these, we would remind you to endeavor to inform yourselves at least on the 
points it may be proper should be illustrated on each present occasion. For ex- 
ample, when intending to expound at length a comedy of Terence, yon may first 
discuss in few words the author's rank in life, his peculiar talent, and elegance 
of style. You may then remark how great the pleasure and utility involved in 
reading comedies ; of which word you should explain the signification and deriva- 
tion. Next, yon may briefly but perspicuously unravel the substance of the plot; 
and carefully point out the particular kind of verse. You may afterward arrange 
the words in more simple order : and wherever there may appear any remark- 
able elegance; any antiquated, new-modeled, or Grecian phrase; any obscurity 
of expression ; any point of etymology, whether derivation or composition ; any 
order of construction rather harsh and confused ; any point of oithography ; any 
figure of speech, uncommon beauty of style, rhetorical ornament, or proverbial 
expression ; in short, any thing proper or improper for imitation ; it should be 
scrupulously noticed to the young party. 

Moreover, you will pay attention that in play-time the party speak with all pos- 
sible correctness ; sometimes commending the speaker when a phrase is rather 
apposite, or improving his expression when erroneous. Occasionally some pithy 
subject for a short epistle in their native tongue should be proposed. And, to 
conclude, you may exhibit, if you please, some formulse, which, serving as a 
guide, a given theme may conveniently be treated. 

Furnished with these rudiments in our school, boys will easily display the para- 
mount importance of beginning from the best. Do you but now proceed, and enr 
lighten with most honorable studies your well-deserving country. 

videtur. Quibus syntaxim Lilii non incon^rug addiderimus, verba defectiva, anotnala, et 
qusecunque heteroclyta, obiter legentes, admonebitis. 

BEPTIMf CLASSIS. 

Septimi ordinis gfrex. aut Horatii Epistolas, aul Ovidii Metamorphosin, anf Fastorum libros 
assidue volvat ; interim vel carmen, vel epistolam aliquam compnnens. Illud quonue per- 
magni referet, si aiiquoties aut carmen solverint, aut solutam oratioiiem pedibus alligatam 
reddiderint. Audita ne effluanf, aut apud vos, aut cum aliis puer retraclet. Sub somnum 
exquisiti quippiam. aut (lignum memoria meditetur, quod proxima aurora prseceptori reddat. 

liiterdum laxandus est animus, intermiscendus lusus, at liberalis tamen, et literis dignus. 
In ipsis studiis sic voluptas est intermiscenda, ut puer ludum potius discendi, quam laborem 
existimat. Cavendum erit, ne immodica contenliiine ingenia disceulium obruantur, aut lee- 
tione praelonga defatigentur. Utraque enim juxia otTenditur. 

OOTAVjE CLASSIS. 

Denique hoc exercitio ad aliquam sermonis peritiam provectiis grex, ad majora grammati- 
ces prscepta revocetur ; velut ad flguras a Donate pr^scriptas. ad Vallae eleganliam, et ad 
linguae Latina; quoslibet veteres authores. In quibus praelegendis vos admonitos velimus, ut 
ea duntaxat quae txplicanda preesenti loco sint idonea, conemini discere. Veluti ComcBdiam 
Terentianam enarraturi, imprimis authoris forlunam, ingenium, sermonis elegantiam, paucis 
disseratis. Deinde, quantum habeat et voluptatis et utilitatis comcediarum lectio. Delude, 
quid significet ea vox, et unde ducta. Deinde, dilucid6 et brevitur summam argument i ex- 
plicetis, carminis genus diligenter indicetis. Postea, ordinetis simplicius : deinde, siqua 
insignis elegantia, siquid prisce dictum, siquid novatum, si(|uid GrEecanicum, siquid obscuri- 
us. siqua etymologia, siqua derivatio et compositio, siqiiis ordo durior, et perturbalior, siqua 
orthographia, siqua figura, siquid egregium orationis decus, siqua exornatio rhetorica, siquid 
proverbium, siquid imitandum, siquid non imitandum, diligenter gregem admoneatis. 

Prseterea, In ludo dabitis operam, ut grex quam eniendatissime loquatur, loquentem ali- 
<(Uoties collaudetis, siquid dictum erit aptius, aut emendetis, cum errabit. Inlerdum epie- 
ioIk brevis argumenlum, sed argutum, lingua vulgari proponi debet. Posfremo, si libet, os- 
tendatis formulas aliquot, quibus traditum thema commode tractari poterit. 

His rudimentis pueri in schola nostra imbuti, facile declarabunt quantopere referat, ab op- 
timas auspicatum fuifise. Vos modo pergite, ac patriam bene merentem honestissimis studiil 
illustrate. 

To be continued. 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

[Tianslated, for the American Journal of Education, from the German of Karl von Raumer.J 



I. CHANGES WITHIiN THE LAST THREE HUNDRED YEARS. 

The purpose of learning Latin having itself become very different 
in the course of time, the methods naturally change accordingly ; as 
new roads are taken to new destinations. 

After the revival of classical learning, there was an effort to dena- 
tionalize the young, and to train them into complete Romans. How 
this was sought to be done in the schools, is shown by the course of 
Sturm's Gymnasium, at Strasburg. After the peace of Westphalia, 
this ideal of education was very much altered by the introduction of 
new elements. It was the knowledsje and understanding of the 
Roman classics which gradually came to be sought, instead of the 
facility of the ancient Roman in writing and speaking Latin. How 
the methods of teaching Latin changed in a corresponding manner, 
we have already stated under the definition of the term grammar. 
Melancthon's definition was, '' Orammatica est certa loquendi et 
scribendi ratio." With this agreed the authors of the " Grammatica 
Marchica," which appeared in 1728. They say " Grammatica is the 
art of speaking and writing correctly." Almost one hundred years 
later. Otto Schulz gave the following definition : " Latin grammar is 
an introduction to the knowledge of the Latin language. It shows 
how the laws of speech are developed in one special language, the 
Latin." Kiihner says, "Grammar is an introduction to the correct 
knowledge of a language, as forms of words, and of speaking." 
These definitions, I think, show how there has been a progress from 
the practical study of Latin, as an art of speaking and writing, to the 
theoretical, aiming at a real knowledge and understanding of it. 

II. THE OPPONENTS OF THE OLD GRAMMATICAL METHODS. 

In Sturm's school, speaking, reading, and writing of Latin went 
hand in hand, even from the lowest classes. Most teachers in the 
sixteenth century, and later, must have used an exceedingly hard and 
unintelligible mode of teaching the grammatical portions of Latin ; 
as the complaints of distinguished men in relation to the schools test- 
ify. We give a few of them. 

The theologian Lubinus, in 1614, published a New Testament in 



250 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

several languages ; and in bis preface contended strenuously against 
the usual method of teaching languages. 

" It seems," he says, " as if a method had been worked out with all 
imaginable pains, by which teachers and scholars, alike, were to teach 
and to acquire the knowledge of the Latin language, only by immense 
labor, great weariness, infinite misery, and by the expenditure of a 
very long time." Some one of a low order of intellect, he continues, 
may have introduced this method in the time of monkery ; and he 
sketches the consequences as follows : — " Nothing is taught except 
Germanisms, solecisms, barbarisms, disgrace. * * What is this sort of 
grammatical instruction in schools, but the delay of learning; the de- 
struction of the years of childhood and of youth ; a butchery of 
liberal minds; and the best portion of youth spent, even to the twen- 
tieth year." lie speaks further of the useless and abominable gram- 
matical rules [Regelchen,) which after a short time became altogether 
impracticable. The unnatural method of beating the grammar into 
the pupils, had the effect of making them hate both parents and 
teachers, and of making the teachers cruel. School instruction by 
rules and precepts is always contrary to nature.* 

In like manner, the eminent Gerhard Vossius opposed the usual 
gTammatical instruction. He says, " I see with pleasure that a method 
of learning Latin has been found, different from the common one. I 
consider the great mass of rules and exceptions, with which the minds 
of boys are at present overwhelmed, not only unnecessary, but exces- 
sively injurious. And I wish that this were its only fault. For those 
who set to work to learn every thing thoroughly, accumulate a great 
mass of false rules, and, in spite of the vast piles of comments and 
commentaries, never touch many of the first importance." In his 
work " De studiorum, ratione^^'' Vossius writes, " The boy should soon 
learn the rules of grammar ; which are so few that they may be 
included in twenty pages. Many rules of a plainly philosophical 
character are commonly stuffed into grammars, quite unintelligible to 
the young. This is absolute butchery. Not that these things are 
not at some time to be learned ; but they should be deferred until 
the nature and causes of language itself can be understood."! 

Justus Lipsius complains that, from his eighth to his thirteenth 
year, his progress in learning was delayed by "grammatical trifles." 

* "There are,"' says Lubinus, " in the compendiums of grammar in common use among 
us, one hundred and eigVity technics and more ; and, in syntax, seventy and more rules, with 
BO many exceptions, mostly very obscure, that they could scarcely be learned by a man of 
adult age, advanced in judgment and learning." 

t " The writings of Vossius," says F. A. Wolf, " are very valuable ; in comparison with 
them, all those of the later grammarians are insignificant." 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 251 

No less earnest is Johann Matthias Gesner, in bis preface to the 
Grammar of Cellarius, against the unreasonable method of studying 
grammar. " There are a thousand miserable examples," he says, " of 
the unfortunate fact that the unintelligent study of grammar has had 
no result whatever, except to kindle an inextinguishable hatred to all 
study, hopelessly to perplex the mind, and to make it unfit for other 
business." It would be inexcusable to permit such a state of things 
to continue. 

Let us now listen to one of the most distinguished complainers of 
modern times, in the same direction ; to a very eminent educator, 
Meierotto :* — " Let any one imagine himself a boy, forced to learn 
ten or twenty paradigms of declensions, and as many of verbs ; who 
must make himself master of the rules for their formation and inflec- 
tion, of their analogies and anomalies, and of so many exceptions to 
rules themselves scarcely understood ; in short, of all the peculiarities 
and contradictions of the whole language. This is little pleasure for 
him ; to be obliged at once to learn what is wearisome by its uni- 
formity, and what is scarcely endurable for its contradictions. And 
he must learn it all by himself, and in silence ; which incredibly 
increases the difficulties of the undertaking. Let me not be answered, 
this has always been done ; that so many boys every year are not 
only doing it, but emulating each other in it. 

" I know very well that a great fear of punishment, or steady appli- 
cation, will accomplish much with the common run of people ; that 
a better stimulus is exerted by the teacher, who has the rare faculty 
of making even this method enlivening ; or even by emulation ; in 
short, that one or another external influence may force boys to apply 
themselves steadily and diligently to the business. I also know that 
the boys do not perceive the fact, and of course do not feel distressed 
about it, that, except the memory of forms, they must give up all 
other intellectual activity. And how seldom can the schools show a 
boy, after half a year's study, who shows as much pleasure in his 
learning as boys naturally show. How commonly has it been ob- 
served, on the contrary, that, even for the smartest boys, the Latin 
recitations are houi-s of martyrdom ! "j- 

Many more complaints might be quoted against the caricaturist 
methods by which grammar has been taught, but we have given 

•Joh. Heinrich Meierotto, " Z(i<jn Grammar in Examples, (Lateinische Grammatik in 
Beispielen ;") Berlin, Fr. Nicolai, 17t?5 ; second part, p. 10, &c. We shall see, further on, how 
Meierotto wouM cure the evil of which he complains. 

t Let not these opinions of Meierotto, Gesner, <fec., be misunderstood ; they are directed, 
not against the use, but the abuse of grammar. For Melancthon's very forcible expressions 
against those who undervalue grammar, see ^'History of Pedagogy," Vol., I . p. 198. 



252 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

enough of them. We proceed to the methods which are recom- 
mended in th^ir stead. 

HI. NEW METHODS. 

A. To learn Latin as the native language is learned. 

Some have set out to pursue the same method by which they have 
learned their native language ; that is, the practice of speaking. The 
example of Montaigne has been appealed to, whose father gave him 
a private teacher, who was to speak Latin and nothing else, even from 
his very earliest years. Such arrangements were also made, that all 
those with whom the boy came into contact should speak only Latin. 
" Without art and without a book," says Montaigne, " without gram- 
mar or rule, without whip or tears, I learned to understand Latin as 
well as my teacher understood it." In his seventh year he read 
nothing with more pleasure than Ovid's '■'' Metamorphoses ; " in fact, 
Latin was his native language. 

Locke prescribed the same way of learning French. But he adds, 
it is practicable to employ a French woman for one's children, but 
not an ancient Roman woman ; and he therefore recommended an- 
other method for learning Latin. 

The strange experiment which was tried with the boy Montaigne 
might succeed with a few fathers, but would hardly bear repetition. 
It has been proposed for masses of children. Lubinus suggested a 
plan of a coenobium, where all the teachers, masters, servants, and 
assistants, and even the cooks and butlers, should use no language 
but pure Roman Latin. In this institution the youths who were 
staying there were to learn the language as they formerly did at Rome, 
only by habit, conversation, and use. 

Maupertuis afterward proposed to found a Latin colony. It is 
hardly necessary to waste a word upon the impracticableness of such 
a proposal. Gerhard Vossius wished for a nation that spoke Latin. 
Then we should have, he says, the very best way of learning Latin. 
But, he continues, since people at present give one very little credit 
for being able to write good Latin, and still less for being able to 
speak it well, and, as usually, only those who are somewhat advanced 
can give any assistance about it, and beginners are rather troublesome, 
there seems to be no other way to improve our Latin, than to read 
the ancients and to imitate them. 

J. M. Gesner, like Vossius, prefers speaking Latin to all other ways 
of teaching its grammar. Speech, he says, (preface to Cellarius' 
Grammar,) is earlier than grammar ; and therefore it is easier to learn 
a language by use and practice, without grammar, than by grammar 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 253 

alone, without use and practice. Tliis last is impossible. But, like 
Vossius, and for the same reason, namely, necessity, Gesner declines 
advising to teach Latin practically in that manner. He says that all 
the instruction in higher and lower schools should be given in Ger- 
man.* We hare already seen that, in his zeal for pure Latinity, he 
declares himself strongly against barbaric Latin, and in favor of 
German lectures. 

"It is a fact," he says, "that polished men, who know Latin, are 
indifferent to the German language, and recommend il to be taught 
afterward. The semi-barbarians, on the other hand, contend for the 
Latin only."f 

Although Wolke and Trapp, the teachers of the Philanthropinum, 
were in favor of teaching Latin by speaking, their opinion is not 
worth much attention. J 

If F. A. Wolf is right in saying that of one hundred gymnasium 
teachers scarcely six can speak Latin, his opinion is clear upon the 
method by speaking. " Ultra posse nemo obUgaturT 

B. Latin and real studies taught together. Comenius. 

Comenius was in favor of teaching Latin and real studies together. 
His '■'■Janua '' and " Orbis Pictus " are composed upon this principle. 
Both school-books are much praised by some, and much dispraised 
by others. Among those who approve of them is one high authority, 
J. M. Gesner. He says : " At the beginning, scholars should learn 
from books which, at the same time, will increase their knowledge of 
things, such as are those of Comenius for younger scholars. For 
this reason, I very much like his books, especially the '■Orbis Pic- 
tus ; ' not because they are the best possible, but because they are 
the best we have." 

In the '■'•Orbis Pictus'''' the boys easily learn manj' words by the 
pictures attached to each. For instance, at the words torrens, stag- 
■num, mare, there are pictures of a waterfall, of a pond, and of the 
sea. 

Only, the "Orbis Pictus" should not contain so many things of 
late date, and pertaining to modern arts and sciences, as, for instance, 
to printing, Comenius included all manner of things; the world of 
speech, according to him, being equal in extent to the world of things, 
and desiring to leave as few omissions as possible. 

• Gesner's opinion that boys should learn short sentences in Latin, is, of course, not incoo. 
sislent with this. 

t Semi-barbarians ; the Jesuits, for example. 

X At least not that of the realist Wblke. For if he said, at an examination, as Schummel 
says he did, "//7jj7a<e *a;torem," this is enough against his method by speaking. See"i/i>- 
tory of Pedagogy," 2, 280, where, however, supposing an errw in writing or O'f the presa, 
I have substituted Imitamini. 



254 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

If this motive had not prevailed with Comenius, if he had con- 
fined himself to the vi'orld of the Latin classics, and had omitted 
every thing of which the Romans did not know, his ^^Orbis Pictus^^ 
would have been, at least, twice as small and twice as useful. In 
the seventeenth century several gymnasiums adopted the ^'■Orbis Pic- 
tiis" as a school-book, but its use did not last long. In private in- 
struction, it may perhaps be more valuable, especially if the boys 
should find pleasure in taking it up themselves. Else, it must be 
considered onty an auxiliary, and not as an efficient elementary 
school-book. 

C. Combination of methods A and B. 

Some have advised to combine, as far as possible, the two methods 
above described. 

Thus, the native language is sometimes taught by showing the 

pupil distinct things, and at the same time naming them to him ; as 

by showing him, for instance, a watch, and pronouncing the word 

watch. Instead of reading the "Or6?s Piciws," Latin names of 

things are to be given orally, and perhaps a few phrases made at the 

same time. 

D. Ratich^s and similar methods. 

(a. Ratieli.) 

Ratich and his school of teachers approach the teaching of Latin 

from a different point of view. Instruction, says Ratich, should not 

begin with grammar, but with the reading of some author, from 

whom grammar must gradually be developed. Ratich's model 

author was Terence, who was to be gone through with nine times, 

and more ; the teacher first making an interlinear translation, the 

scholar translating it back again. Afterward came the instruction in 

grammar from the author chosen, then imitation, &c. 

(b. Locke.) 
Locke advises to begin in the same way. He directs to commence 
with the fables of -^op, to use an interlinear version, to read repeat- 
edly one fable after another, and to cause it to be written, until the 
scholar understands it thoroughly. Since the rules of grammar are 
derived from those of speech, and not the latter from the former, those 
rules are not to be taught until the scholar has attained a certain 
degree of facility in the understanding of the language. 

(c. Hamilton.) 
At a later period an Englishman, Hamilton,* invented a method 
similar to that of Ratich, which had much success. The means 

• Hamilton can not have known Ratich's works • can he Locke's ? 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 255 

by which he fell upon this method are too characteristic to be here 
omitted. Hamilton was a merchant. In 1798 he went from Eng- 
land to Hamburg, and there learned German from a French emi- 
grant, named Angely, under the condition that his teacher should not 
trouble him with the grammar, as his head was too full of other 
things. Angely began by translating a German anecdote into Eng- 
lish, word for word, and making Hamilton translate it back again- 
After twelve lessons he found himself able to read in an easy Ger- 
man book; and afterward, at Leipzig, he proceeded 'further in the 
language by reading and speaking. " This," says Hamilton himself, 
"is the origin of the Hamiltonian system ; but I had as little idea of 
ever teaching it, as I now have of flying." 

He was afterward unfortunate in business, and went to North 
America. In 1815 he went to New York, and began to give lessons 
in French, after Angely's method, at a high rate — 124 for twenty- 
four lessons. He taught with increasing reputation in Philadelphia, 
Baltimore, and other American cities. In 1823 he returned to Eng- 
land, and, rather quackishly, advertised " to teach Greek, Latin, 
French, Italian, and German, in a few weeks, to those entirely ignorant 
of them." In eighteen months he had six hundred scholars, and 
taught in several English, Scotch, and Irish cities. He died at Dub- 
lin, in 1831. 

These few points in Hamilton's life, and the way which he made 
his appearance as teacher, and even inventor of a new method, can 
not make a very favorable impression regarding it, upon men of solid 
learning and thorough educators. He seems to have undertaken 
only to give his scholars, in the shortest time possible, a superficial 
knowledge and tolerable facility in speaking and reading a language. 
To grammar, and to the value of instruction in language as a means 
of intellectual training, he appears to have paid but little attention. 
His method seems to be well adapted to instruct traveling agents, 
rich people who travel for pleasure, and such persons, for roving about 
in foreign lands. 

Still we must not be in haste to condemn. Let us first examine 
Hamilton's own method of teaching, and then observe how it was 
modified by others, especially Germans. Hamilton began his instruc- 
tion in Latin with a Latin book, usually the Latin version of the 
gospel of St. John, with an interlinear translation. This translation 
must agree with the original in gender, number, and case, of nouns 
and adjectives ; in mode, tense, and person, of verbs ; and«in idiom ; 
peculiarities of the German or any other native language being 
entirdy neglected. 



256 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

In translating each single word of the original, he came upon the 
question whether this interlinear version is to give the meaning of the 
word in that connection, or the radical meaning, as far as it could be 
ascertained. The German Hamiltonians, says Pfau, give the first 
etymological, or primary meaning ; for example, ifpoduifsTov, fore-face 
instead of mask ; for vswpj/otf, earth-worker instead of farmer, llam- 
ilton himself says, "In Philadelphia I first advocated the doctrine that 
words in all languages, with few exceptions, have only one meaning, 
(the proper or radical meaning,) and should always be translated by 
that equivalent which will come nearest to supplying its place at all 
times and in all circumstances." In another place he says, " Transla- 
tions must be analytical, that is, word for word ; and must give, not a 
derived and remote meaning, but the radical and proper meaning of 
each word." 

Ratich and his followers had already declared themselves in favor 
of translating words by their principal etymological meaning.* 
" The translation," says a Ratichian, " must be most strictly conformed 
to the letter of the radical meaning, as far as possible ; although it 
may not correspond to the sense in that place." 

In the beginning of the Andria of Terence, for instance, where he 
says "Poeto cum 2}rimum animum ad scribendum adpulit,''' the inter- 
linear vession gives, for adpulit, " had impelled toward." And 
still, in agreement with Hamilton, he says, further, " Nor must this 
translation vary ; but each word, as often as it occurs in the whole 
book, must be translated by the same equivalent." 

As an example of the interlinear version, we give the following, 
from John. 

Initio omnium rerum fuit Verbum, Verbura 

(/w the) bcyinning of all thinr/s tvas [Ike) Word, [the) Word 
apud Deum fuit ; Deus fuit Verbum. lllud igitur verbum 

with God was God loas {the) Word. That therefore word 

initio fuit apud Deum. Omnia ejus 

(m the) beginning was with God. All [things) of him [by the) 

ope creata sunt. In ipso erat vita, quae vita hominibus 
help created were. In him was life, which life [for) men [of) 
lucis fons exstitit. Lucebat lux inter tenebras, quse 

light fountain existed. Shone [the) light in [the) darkness, which 
eam non comprehenderunt. 
it not comprehended. 
From French he translates as follows : — 

* Pfnu observes that Hamilton's translations did nut entirely carry out his principle. 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 257 

Cetait en elle qu' etait la vie, et la vie etait la lumiere des 

It was in it that was the life, and the life was the light of 

hommes. Et la lumiere luit dans les tenebres, et les tenebres 

men. And this light shone in the darkness, and the dai-Jcness 

ne r ont point recue. 

not it have point received. 

We add a specimen of Tafel's interlinear version of John, 18: 

25, 27. 

Pierre etait la et se chaufFait ; et ils lui 

Peter was there and himself was warming; and they to him 

disent : n' es-tu pas aussi de ses disciples ? II le nia et 
said : not art thou, step also of his disciples ? He it denied and 

dit : Je n' en suis point. Et Tun des serviteurs du 

said : I not of it am point. And the one of the servants of the 

pontife, parent de celui a qui Pierre avait coupe 1' 
high-priest, relative of that one to lohom Peter had cut off^ the 

Oreille, lui dit : Ne t' ai-je pas vu en le jardin avec 
ear, to him said : Not thee have I step seen in the garden with 
lui ? Pierre le nia encore une fois ; et aussitot le coq 

him? Peter it denied again one time; and immediately the cock 

chanta, 
crew. 

Before proceeding to tlie controversy to which the school-books of 
Hamilton and the Hamiltonians gave rise, we will examine the meth- 
ods which were practiced, along with these books, by the master and 
his scholars. 

Hamilton himself first translated, word for word, from the gospel 
of John in French into English, for his scholars, and made them 
translate back again. This was the turning of the first course ; in 
the two following courses he used other books, in the same way. In 
the third couree he introduced grammar, and commonly made them 
recite the regular rules, and a dozen or so of the irregular ones, in 
rhyme. Afterwaid they translated the gospel of John, orally and by 
writing, into correct French. After six or eight such exercises, they 
were commonly to make no more mistakes. "Thus," says Hamilton, 
" the pupil is to proceed to translate the whole New Testament, until 
he can do it without the aid of the teacher. Then comes a daily ex- 
ercise in French ; a friendly or business letter, or a narrative, until the 
style is free from Anglicisms ; whose avoidance is very difficult, and 
which must be gradually cured by industrious practice." He states 



258 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

thus the object at which his French scholars aimed : " They read 
French as easily as English ; can write, correctly and easily, a letter 
of business or friendship in French ; and can speak correctly, if not 
with facility." 

Tliis statement of the object of the Hamiltonian instruction in 
French shows that his whole aim was to train his scholars, by the 
shortest and easiest way, to a point of ability to speak and write 
French, which very many wish to reach and to go no fiy-ther. He 
taught only adults, probably mostly merchants ; who found Hamilton, 
a practical merchant, precisely the man for them. But how was it 
with his instruction in Latin, for which language there is no practical 
use ? He read and translated the gospel of John in Latin, in the 
same way, giving three lessons to the first chapter. At the fourth 
lesson, from fifty to seventy verses had been translated. "At the 
tenth lesson,'' says Hamilton, " it will be found that the class can, 
without trouble, translate the whole of the gospel of John. For the 
next two steps, which also occupied ten lessons, they read an Epitome 
HistorioB Sacroe. With this, some of the forms of the language 
Avere taught ; a grammar which he had had printed being put into 
the hands of the scholars ; not, however, for learning by rote, which 
he entirely forbid. In this respect he fully agreed with the principle 
of Ratich, " nothing is to be learned by rote,"* 

At the third step comes syntax, and the reading of Nepos ; at the 
fourth, Caesar ; and, at the fifth and sixth, Virgil and Horace : all 
these others, except the last, being read with an interlinear transla- 
tion. 

"Five or six months," says Hamilton, "of continued attention by 
the scholar and the teacher, will be found sufficient to secure the 
former a knowledge of Latin which would heretofore seldom have been 
attained in as many years. Having come so far," he continued, " the 
scholar may now practice writing Latin, in a course of ten lessons, 
from which he will now derive more advantage than by writing over 
whole reams of paper on the old plan in our schools." 

Hamilton printed, with interlinear translations, the gospel of John, 
Epitome Ilisiorice Sacrce, ^Esop's Fables, Eutropius, Aurelianus Vic- 
tor, Pliaedrus, Nepos, Caesar, two volumes of selections from profane 
authors, Sallust, Ovid's "Metamorphoses,''' and six books of the ^neid. 
After an examination of some of his scholars of from ten to thirteen years 
old, he writes, " Had I then been supplied with translations, as at a 

' In the Praxis Ratichianonim it is said. " Prove your pupils, whether they are ready in the 
conjugations and declensions ; but let it all be done from the book, and not by the memory ; 
nor let the scholar be permitted to recite the inflections from memory." Basedow also writes 
" with U£ there is very littte memorizins." 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. qcq 

later period," (with interlinear ones, that is,) " they must, during the 
six months over which their course extended," (in Latin,) " have gone 
through the whole thirteen volumes " (those above named) " which I 
afterward published." 

How many remarkable things are there here, aside from the silly 
bragging, which show ignorance of language and bungling in teach- 
ing! Of the gospel of John, which he selected for a first book, with 
its interlinear translations, we shall speak, further on. After this fol- 
lows the Epitome, then Nepos, Csesar, Virgil, Horace: John the be- 
ginning, and Horace the end, of his course ! In six months the schol- 
ars shall learn as much in this way as usually in six years on the com- 
mon plan. If then he will buy ten lessons more, this will carry him 
to as great facility in reading Latin, as years would do "on the old 
plan in our schools." He even engages to carry children of from ten 
to thirteen years old, in six months, through thirteen volumes of Latin 
authors, so that they shall understand them. This reminds one of 
Basedow's bragging. Indeed Hamilton exceeds Basedow; perhaps 
because he had not, like him, studied, and therefore did not know what 
he was doing. The German Hamiltonians were mostl)^ educated men ; 
and it was therefore to be expected that, like practical and prudent 
men, they would avoid the follies of their master and predecessor. 
A few made some improvements; others, on the other hand, have in- 
creased the evil. 

Tafel,* like Hamilton, makes an interlinear translation of the gospel 
of St John the basis of all his instruction. This contradicts that 
maxim of the natural philosophers — Fiat experimentum in re vili. 
Strict men, like Klumpp, Schmid, Strebel, <kc., saw in this a disre- 
spect to the gospel, on account of the distorted interlinear versions, of 
which I gave a specimen. This was liable to make too deep an im- 
pression upon scholars, and to become a serious hindrance to their fu- 
ture devout perusal of the books. It is not very clear, however, why 
pious men, and even these very ones, advocate the use of the Greek 
Testament as a school-book. 

The fundamental idea of the Hamiltonian system, according to 
Schmid,f is this: "The teacher of the foreign language must first, as 
to the materia!, introduce the scholar to the language as to a living 
one, and one containing thoughts; and must likewise give him com- 
plete expressions and sentences. Second, as to the form or method of 



• The methods of Hamilton and Jacotot, {Die Sprackmethoden Hamilton's und JacoloVs,) by 
Dr. L. Tafel. German quarterly, (Deutschen VierteljakrssckrifQ 1838. 3d part, p. 179. 

+ Jahn's Annual (Jahrhuch.) 1839, XXV., p. 406, Klumpp's edition. Strtbel ; " The Educor 
tiomU Institution at Stetten" (Die ErziehungsanstaU zu Sletten,) p. 48. 



2Q0 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

his instruction, he must furnish him, as far as possible, with an inde- 
pendent knowledge of the laws of the foreign language." 

We shall first consider the material — the complete expressions and 
sentences which are laid before the beginner in a foreign language. 
The "Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin," which was written on the wall, 
was a sentence which Belshazzar did not understand; Daniel was 
obliged to translate the unknown and enigmatic words. To the Ger- 
man beginner, Latin words are precisely as unintelligible as those 
words ; and it is therefore quite indifferent to him whether the senten- 
ces are connected together or separate. 

Herr Director Meiring expresses himself very forcibly on this point 
against the Hamiltonians.* " If words have character and meaning 
only in sentences, so have sentences character and meaning only in 
parts of the organization of a whole work, chapter, &c. ; and, there- 
fore, neither should they be taught separately to the scholar. But, 
besides this," continues Meiring, "it is only in the case of the native 
language that instruction can proceed analytically, from the whole to 
the parts. It is not so with Latin. In the case of Latin we have, in- 
stead of immediateness, continual indirectness ; instead of the analyt- 
ical proceeding, 'from the whole to the parts, a synthetical one, from 
the most separate parts to the whole. The scholar finds himself in 
the presence of a language entirely strange to him. How is he to 
get at the meaning even of the simplest sentence — to reproduce in 
his own mind the thoughts expressed in it ? Had he within his own 
sphere of thought the suitable forms for the foreign sentence, the use 
of them would be tolerably simple ; he would exchange the one for 
the other, and arrive at a whole. But he has no such forms, or he 
has them very rarely ; and even Hamiltonism itself, which seeks to 
supply them by means of distorting the native tongue, fails of its ob- 
ject. The beginner must also obtain an understanding of the charac- 
teristics of the sentence ; he must have the lexicographic meaning of 
the words, and their grammatical form. Word for word must be ex- 
plained, before the scholar is ready to put the single words into a sen- 
tence, and then make them intelligible in his own language. What 
similarity is there here," continues Meiring, " with the organized and 
animated delivery of a native language ? Whatever may be the 
dreams of the inventors of certain modern methods for language, im- 
mediateness and life of expression in Latin can only be aimed at in a 
higher grade of instruction." 

Thus far this intelligent educationist. He here suggests a subject 

* On the learning of vocables in Latin instruction ( VTier das Vokabelnlernen im Lateinischen 
Unterricht.) 1842. In the programme of the Gymnasium in Diiren. 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 261 

which has been ably discussed by Professor Schwarz, of Ulin. The 
question is, can the foreign text in this manner be truly rendered into 
the native language? Is the text a formless mass, upon which any 
stamp will make a correct impression ? By no means. German has 
a form of its own, as well as Latin ; and, therefore, the German inter- 
linear version, instead of being a true representation of the Latin ori- 
ginal, is much more like the impression of one seal stamped over an- 
other, where the two are confounded in one distorted image. Schwarz 
says that this is attempting to teach the scholars a foreign language 
by means of one made foreign ; an unknown one by means of one 
made unintelligible ; Latin by Latinized — or barbarized — German ; in 
short, the unknown by the unknown. 

Tafel explains that " one of the chief advantages of the new method 
is, that it teaches the meanings of words, not isolatedly, but in con- 
nection — in whole sentences and periods." In another place he says, 
"The Hamiltonian method has an advantage by its use of the laws of 
the association of ideas, so little regarded in the usual teaching ; and 
produces the good result that on the one hand it furnishes the scholar 
with a store of words in complete sentences, and on the other it gives 
him the radical meanings of words ; that it preseiits the language 
taught, not only as to its words, their inflections, relations, and places 
in sentences and periods, but exhibits them thoroughly, with all their 
idiomatic peculiarities in the mother tongue ; so that the scholar ob- 
tains a complete picture of the foreign idiom. This principle of trans- 
lating words by their radical meanings is of the utmost importance in 
the study of language, and has until lately never been sufficiently re- 
garded. It is by means of this principle that the first real progress 
is to be made in the actual thorough knowledge of foreign tongues." 

We have seen that a Latin sentence is first presented to the begin- 
ner wholly unintelligible ; and that it becomes gradually understood 
by him, only by the lexicographic and grammatical explanation of 
single words ; and also that the interlinear version neither does nor 
can give a true picture — a fac-simile — of the Latin or other original. 

Upon a close examination of the above quotation from Tafel, it will 
be seen to contain a flat contradiction in terras. He praises the method 
because (with the help of the interlinear version) it gives the scholar, 
not the significations of isolated words, but their meaning in their 
connection — in whole sentences; and at the same time because its 
translation furnishes only the radical meanings of words. It claims 
on the one hand to explain to the pupil the meaning of each word as 
to its situation and force within the period or sentence, instead of giv- 
ing it isolatedly ; and on the other hand that, notwithstanding this, 



2Q2 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

each Latin word, let it occur in what sentence it will, is always trans- 
lated by one and the same radical meaning. But how seldom is the 
radical meaning of the majority of words used ; in how many is it 
modified or entirely out of sight ; in how many is there a long history 
of the developments between its radical meaning and that used in the 
sentence under consideration ! Examine now the interlinear transla- 
tion above given from Tafel. Where he translates JVe fai-je pas vu, 
by JVot thee have I step seen, and Je vCen suis point, by / not of it 
am POINT, the scholar will make no sentence whatever out of that 
translation, because a sentence must have some meaning, whether it 
has any thing else or not. This not existing in the case quoted, the 
scholar can not from the meaning of the sentence learn the meaning 
of the words pas and point. It is only by means of really advanced 
and learned study, such as he is not at this point capable of, that he 
could get at the relations of the particles pas and point with the words 
passus and punctum ; he would not find it at all in the usual diction- 
aries and grammars. The truth is, that the radical meaning should 
only be given in the interlinear version, when that meaning belongs to 
the word in the particular place where it stands. 

There is an antique statue which represents Achilles naked, and 
with his helmeted head thoughtfully inclined. What would be said 
of an artist who should set about covering the pedestal of the statue 
with bas-reliefs which should represent the hero in the most various 
situations — among the women, mourning in his tent, in combat with 
Hector — and every where should hold fast to the expression and cos- 
tume of the statue ? Would this not be preposterous and impossible ? 
Precisely as preposterous is it, and as absurd, for a i-easonable man to 
adhere to the radical meaning of words throughout the variations of 
different sentences. 

A word, in conclusion, upon the manner in which the Hamiltonians 
deduce their knowledge of forms and of syntax from their elementary 
author. I exceedingly doubt whether, from the gospel of John, for 
example, a single complete paradigm could be made out, even of the 
most common words, and of those used themselves in constructing 
paradigms. What then is left to be done, except to supply the defi- 
ciencies by the help of some grammar ? This is what happens in the 
Institute at Stetten, even within the first half-year; the paradigms are 
there very sufficiently practiced by the scholars. If the grammar is 
to be deduced exclusively from the author, it will be impossible to have 
it come in any scientific and methodical order. The most uncommon 
cases may appear immediately ; and the most common ones may be 
plow in occurring. For example: Marx published, in 1822, an "Intro- 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 263 

duction to Greek, with the beginning of the Odyssey," and in it he 
printed the first book of the Odyssey, with an interh'near translation. 
The third word of the book is i'wsirs, of which Buttmann says, in his 
grammar, that it is "very anomalous," and therefore he refers, for a 
fuller examination of it, to his " LexilogusP In that work the begin- 
ner will find additional information about the third Greek word he set 
eyes on. Sapicntl sat ! 

(d. Jacotot.) 

Born at Dijon ; educated in the polytechnic school at Paris. First 
an advocate, he was successively professor of humanities, captain of 
artillery, secretary to the ministry at war, substitute-director of the 
polytechnic school, professor of languages and mathematics at Paris, 
and finally, in 1818, professor of French language and literature at 
Louvain. 

Here he wrote his work entitled " Universal Instruction^^'' {En- 
scignement Universel.)* Institutions were soon established at Brussels, 
Antwerp, Louvain, and other cities, where instruction was given on 
his plan. Controversies arose about it;f and Englishmen, French- 
men, and Americans came to Louvain, to make themselves acquainted 
with it. 

Jacotot died at Paris in 1840. He established two fundamental 
principles, which have been much attacked. The first is, "All men 
have a like degree of intelligence. There are no geniuses ! " he as- 
serted ; " no blockheads ; no such things as inborn knowledge or learn- 
ing. Men differ only in will. A reasoning man can accomplish any 
thing for which he has sufficient will ; and only the indolence of a 
man is to blame for his lack of acquirement." 

It is needless to explain the falsity of this proposition. It is suffi- 
ciently clear that a teacher, who" believes that his less capable scholars 
only lack good will to make them equal in efficiency to his best, will 
manage the former wrongly. 

The second principle is, "Every thing is contained in each thing." 
Accordingly, the scholars can and must learn something or other, and 
refer every thing else to it. Agreeably to this principle, Jacotot re- 
quired that in each department of study some basis should be laid of 
matter fixed in the memory, to which the scholar could trace back 

• " Unirersal Instruction ; or Learning and Teaching after the Natural Method of Joseph 
Jacotot : translated by Krieger." (•' Universal Unterricht, oder Lernen und Lehren naeh der 
Naturmethode voti Joseph Jacotot, vbersetzt von Krieger. ") Deux-Ponts, 1833. I am following 
principally "/. Jacotot's Universal Instruction, presented from his own Writings and Ex- 
position," (J. Jacotot's Universal Unterricht, nach dessen Schriften und nach eigener Ans- 
ehauung dargestelU.) by Dr. Hoffman, Professor at Jena. Jena, 1835. 

t Among his opponents were the ''■Journal de Paris," the '• Gazette de Fiance,' and the 
" Quotidienne." 



264 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

every thing which he should acquire, at least in that especial study. 
This basis was to be continually gone over, continually treated anew, 
continually discussed over again with new comments, in order to its 
exhibition in all its relations and phases. And further, every thing 
newly learned was to be compared with what avhs learned before, so 
that it should appear how the old is comprehended in the new, and 
the new in the old. 

Jacotot further lays it down, that " Every man is endowed by God 
■with the power of instructing himself, and has no need of a teacher 
to explain things to him." This principle, according to which all 
teachers are useless, is even pushed further. An explaining teacher, 
says Jacotot, does harm, because he hinders the free development, in 
its own way, of the mind of the learner. It follows of course that he 
is the best teacher who does no explaining ; in fact, who knows nothing 
whatever. Jacotot actually says, " No one understands the ' Universal 
Instruction^^ who does not consider himself fit to instruct his son in 
things which- he does not understand himself." He cites his own ex- 
perience in illustration : he taught Dutch and Russian before he un- 
derstood them ; and he taught music, which he did not then un- 
derstand. 

This reminds one of the old rhyme — 

" Hans Voss heisst er, 

Schelmstnck weiss er, 

Was er nicht weiss, das will er lehren." 

" Hans Fox his name is, 

Roguery his game is ; 

And every game he don't know, he still will be leaching." 

The inventive method is pushed by Jacotot to the extremest carica- 
ture. For instance : he sets before the beginner, who does not even 
know his letters, the printed sentence', " In the beginning God created 
the heaven and the earth, and the earth was without form and void." 
He reads these words to him, and then requires him to consider them 
carefully, and reflect upon them ; that is, to see what like or similar 
things he sees amongst them. The pupil, he says, " will soon say that 
he recognizes as similar the n in 'In' and those in 'beginning;' the 
e in ' the,' ' beginning,' ' created,' &c. By suitable questions he will 
be brought to observe that these letters are every where sounded alike ;* 
and by this sort of comparison, in this and other sentences, he will 
himself discover all the sounds, and then their names may gradually 
be taught him." 

We pass to Jacotot's method of teaching a foreign language. In 
French, he adopts Telemachus as his elementary author ; and in Latin, 

* This is spoken of the European continental languages. — Trans. 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 



265 



aa £pUo7ne JUstorm Sacrce — apparently the same which Ilaniilton 
used— followed bj' Nepos, and then by Horace. These text- books con- 
tain, not an interlinear translation, like Hamilton's, but a marginal 
translation ; so that the Jacototian scholar compares the translation, 
not word for word, but period for period. According to Hamilton's 
method, he learned the signification of single words, which must have 
appeared to him marvelously confused in arrangement, and often so 
altogether senseless that, even with the help of the teacher, he could 
not put them together into good German. Jacotot's scholars were 
set a task the reverse of this. Each period of the marginal transla- 
tion is in good German ; and the problem is, to select the Latin 
period which corresponds to it, and then to discover the Latin word 
corresponding to each German word within that period. This is 
called the " Heuristic," or " Inventive" method {heiiriatische methode !) 
Jacotot proceeds to explain that when the pupil can sufficiently well 
pick out the translated periods corresponding to those in the foreign 
language, then the teacher is to set him at work on the words ; to 
select those that occur more than once within the same sentence, and 
then to get their meaning. For example : the teacher asks " What 
words are alike in the first sentence of Telemachus ? " The scholar 
answers, pouvait and j)ouvait ; and in " my own language the word 
could appears twice ; so that pouvait must mean could." In a sim- 
ilar manner the scholar is gradually to guess out his knowledge of the 
forms of the language, from what he reads. 

" Here, for example, are the words creavit and vocavit. The scholar 
observes that past time is expressed by the vernacular translation of 
each; upon comparison, he will perceive that this is indicated in each 
by the syllable av ; and thus he has guessed the meaning of the syl- 
lable av." 

How is the scholar, however, to get at these meanings, if no word 
or syllable is repeated ? Is not this guessing a miserable and insuffi- 
cient contrivance — a clumsy and childish game at blind-man's bufi"? 

In French, as we said, Jacotot uses the Telemaque as an elementary 
text-book. " Those pupils who have committed to memory not more 
than the first three books, are to recite all that they have learned 
every day. Those who have finished the first course, or who know 
the first six books, are daily to repeat such a portion of them as that 
those six books shall all be repeated at least twice a week." In 
a closely printed octavo edition of Telemachus, the first three 
books occupy sixty-three pages ; the first six, a hundred and 
nineteen. 

In learning Latin, " The memorizing of the elementary text-book 



266 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

is to proceed parallel with the translation of it, until the pupil has 
committed a quantity equal to the first six books of Telemachus." 

What a frightfully mind-destroying martyrdom of memorizing ! 
some reader exclaims. Not at all, answers Jacotot's adherent. 
" When a few pieces have been committed to memory in a foreign 
language," says Hoffman, " such is scarcely the case with the words, 
and not at all with the meaning, if the proper reflections have been 
made from time to time." But such reflections ! Let us give an 
example (from Hoffman.) The teacher requires from the scholar the 
true meaning of the two words Wisdom and Virtue. " Both," an- 
swers the scholar, " signify the love of goodness, and abhorrence of 
vice." Teacher. — " Why is this ? " Scholar. — " It seems so to me." 
Teacher. — " Bad. Why abhorrence of vice ? " Scholar. — " Because 
he who does not abhor vice can not be virtuous." Teacher. — "You 
do not adhere to the method. What I am asking for is, what in 
your text-book — in the normal book, the Telemachus — has occasioned 
to you these observations ? Where in that book have you found the 
words ' Wisdom ' and ' Virtue ' used with the meaning you are giving 
them ? You are finding out and writing from memory, from inspi- 
ration, from genius. This will not do in the method. Take care ; 
you are only dealing in a lottery, in that way. Where now have you 
read that nature is ' The victory over those passions which agitate the 
human mind?'" Scholar. — "Telemachus underwent the develop- 
ment of passion in the island of Cyprus." Teacher. — " Good. Why ; 
which agitate ? " Scholar. — " He was agitated, because Fenelou 
compares him to a hind which carries the arrow every where about 
with her." Teacher. — " Very well. But why the human mind ? " 
Scholar. — " That is a common expression." Teacher. — " Prove it." 
Scholar ; shows him the words so used in some place in the book. 
Teacher. — " Very well, indeed." 

Thus what the scholar reads is repeated, imitated, varied ; there is 
a continual practice of these reflections ; of the most superficial and 
wearisome so-called drilling of the understanding, {verstandes-ubunc/- 
en.) On Jacotot's principle that every thing is contained in each 
thing, every thing possible could be found in the Telemachus — or 
rather dragged into it. 

Let us, however, leave the subject of these reflections, and turn our 
attention to the peculiarities of the system in its instruction in lan- 
guage. Jacotot's scholars, as we saw, learned great part of the Epi- 
tome Historioe Sacrce by rote. " But," says Jacotot, " he not only 
knows it by heart, but also understands it, by the help of the trans- 
lation which is put into his hands. One who knows the Epitome 
can speak Xatin, whether well or ill, and has studied only two months. 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 267 

He can not only speak it, but can understand what is said to him in it. 
Probably the Epitome contains the whole Latin language ; and with 
the words found in it every thing can be said which can be thought. 
If one has mastered the Epitome, he knows Latin ! ! " It may be so, 
on the principle that " All is in each ! " 

We have seen that Jacotot's scholars were made, at the beginning, 
to guess the meanings and forms of words. These are further on to 
be required, in order that they may, as Hoffmann says, " verify the 
grammar ; that is, investigate and determine the correctness of the 
rules given in the grammar. For this pupose," Hoffmann proceeds, 
" any grammar may be taken which contains the rules in sufficient 
detail. These are to be read through. The scholar already knows 
the actual cases to which they refer, and has now only to learn the 
grammarian's technology, in order to be master of such a clear and 
vivid view of the rules of grammar, as probably scarcely any good 
grammarian even at present has, unless his theory of language be 
under his special consideration. Still more, the scholar thus instruct- 
ed, who has been accustomed and trained in separating the words into 
their syllables, and in comparing these according to their composition, 
will himself originate many shrewd remarks on the subject, and en- 
force them by reference to facts ; and, what is most remarkable of all, 
he will sufficiently obey and follow these rules." Goethe says, some- 
where, "May our posterity be enabled to complete what their prede- 
cessors have begun ; or, to use the uncourteous phrase of some, to 
correct it." He did not like the use of the word " correct," even of 
posterity. What would he have thought of teachers who undertake, 
by their silly method, to render boys capable of correcting Buttmann, 
and Lachmann, of " verifying " their grammars, in short of surpass- 
ing them ? Such instruction of boys in conceit is worse than silly ; 
it is wicked. 

Jacotot's commencing to teach Latin with the Epitome Historice 
Sacrce, and following that with Nepos, and then with Horace, and 
indeed his whole method of instruction in language, show that he 
was consistently true to his maxim, that one must be able to teach 
things which he does not himself understand. 

The greatest wonder is, that any man, in view of this maxim, 
should have even begun to study Jacotot's system.* 

* HofTmanu's book shows how with what monstrous ignorance and presumption Jacotot 
spoke of instruction at otlier times. He assures the scholar, for instance, that he can, by 
persevering industry, enable liimself to compose a drama which shnll be successful, and 
equal even to tlie very best. According to him, it is only the will that is wanting to become 
equal to Shakespeare. In history, says Jacotot, nothing new can be learned ; nothing which 
can not be gathered from common life or the elementary text-book. In leaching arithmetic, 
he directs a short abridgement of arithmetic to be committed to memory, &c. 



268 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

(e. Ruthardt.) 

J. C. Ruthardt, a private teacher in Breslau, first published, in 1839, a 
"Projwsal and plan for the outer and inner completion of a grammatical 
method for teaching the classical languages^'' ( Vorscldag und plan 
einer dussern und innern vervollstdndigung der grammatikalischen 
methode die klassischen sprachen zu lernen.) In 1841, he pubhshed 
his larger work, " Proposal and plan for the outer and inner com- 
pletion of a grammatical method of teaching more particularly 
Latin prose,^^ ( Vorschlag und Plan einer dussern und innern vervoll- 
stdndigung der grammatikalischen lehrmethode, zunachst fur die 
Lateinische prosa. 

Upon Ruthardt's method there has appeared an " opinion," appar- 
ently by some Saxon educator. According to this " Ruthardt's method 
is Jacotot's, become sober ; or come back to its senses."* 

Pfau says, " How nearly related Ruthardt and Jacotot are, anyone 
will observe upon reading the latter's preface to his book on ' Univers- 
al Instruction ; ' where he says, among other things, ' Let your 
pupil learn one book ; read it often yourself; and examine whether 
he understands what he learns. Make yourself certain that he can 
not forget it ; and, lastly, instruct him how to refer every thing which 
he learns subsequently, to this book. That is universal instruction.' " 

Ruthardt himself cjiotes Jacotot's saying, " Teach one book well, 
and derive every thing else from it." " I depart," he continues, " from 
the same point. But my road is very different from his." 

Let us examine more closely the points of difference and agree- 
ment between Ruthardt and Jacotot. The former agrees with the 
latter in this, that he adopts an elementary text-book — the " Loci 
Memoriales''^ — and uses this in many respects, but not in all, as Jacotot 
uses his " Telemachus,'''' and other elementary books. 

Prose matter, for teaching and learning, becomes, according to 
Ruthardt, " the mental property of the teacher and scholar, by con- 
tinued attentive repetition, variation, separation, reconnection, &c. ; 
and by ' applied use in connected lessons,' ( Verwendung bei verwandten 
Lectionen.) It is to serve as the central point, to which are to be re- 
ferred grammar, comprehensive reading, writing, and speaking." 
The chief value of Ruthardt's method, he himself ascribes to his 
" strict reference of all the departments of his instruction in language 
to a fixed and common central point." This sounds very much like 
Jacotot's " Learn one book well, and refer every thing to it." 

Still, there is a fundamental distinction between him and Ruthardt, 
in that the former uses his normal book as the text-book, even for 

''^Votum in Sachen der Rtithardlschen methode . . . mit RVicksicht auf deren Ein- 
fuhrung in die s'dchsischen Gymnasicn." Leipzig: Barth, 184-1. 



"*? 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 269 

beginners, and Ruthardt not. Jacotot, like Raticli and Hamilton, 
believes that the first instruction in grammar should not be given to 
the beginner abstractedly from speech and writing ; but that a book 
should be put into his hands, and he should be taught himself to ab- 
stract the grammar from it. 

Not so Ruthardt. He disposes very briefly of the instructions of 
beginners, (the sixth class in the gymnasiums ;) merely requiring that 
they should learn b}' rote the paradigms of declensions and conjuga- 
tions, the rules of gender and case, except some which may be omit- 
ted, the more usual irregular verbs, and lastly some words in an 
etymological order. He gives no details as to the way in which this 
is to be done. But it is this very beginning which makes teachers 
the most trouble ; and which has lately occasioned the publication of 
so many "proposals" and "methods." I agree with the opinion ex- 
pressed by tlie author of the " Votiun,'''' on this point. He says, 
" The first and most difficult task in instruction in an ancient lan- 
guage is to give the scholar facility in the forms, and a knowledge 
of some few words ; since all further progress depends on these at- 
tainments, and deficiency in the forms will bring its own punishment — 
late, perhaps, but certainly. Precisely in this most difficult part of 
instruction, where we would gladly have directions, and where a 
masterpiece of pedagogical art might well have been displayed, 
Ruthardt leaves us uninformed." 

The same author finds further fault with Ruthardt, for giving too 
little attention to the lowest classes ; two printed pages being what he 
esteems sufficient to bring out the most simplified relations of speech. 
And what is required ty Ruthardt, would not, he says, occupy so 
much time as one year. " The acquirement of the forms," continues 
the anonymous author, " and their exemplification in short sentences 
intelligible to children, must proceed together ; and that is a remark- 
able school in which this could be sufficiently practiced in two years." 
Rulhardt's normal book, the ''^ Loci Memoriales^' is first introduced 
in the fifth class, as a text-book for such scholars as have gained some 
knowledge of forms, and some acquaintance with words. All the ex- 
tracts in the '■''Loci'''' are, with a few exceptions, taken from Cicero. 
" An arrangement according to grammatical categories," says Ruth- 
ardt, " is unnecessary, as the principles of grammar have already 
been taught in the lowest class." The " Zoci" are to be committed 
to memory in the methodical order, the easiest for the lowest classes, 
and gradually increasing in extent and difficulty ; and are to be ex- 
plained, translated, and generally made use of more thoroughly and 
elaborately, in proportion to the progress of the scholar. The teachers, 
especially of the classes from the fifth to the first, are also themselves 



270 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

to memorize the extracts, and to use thera in reading as well as in oral 
and written drill. 

Ruthardt's method, as is well known, has a great reputation in 
Prussia and Bavaria. This appears to be the consequence of the 
beginning of a reaction. Of late years, grammar has frequently been 
taught, even to beginners, in a most subtle and abstruse manner; the 
memory, on the other hand, being neglected. Ruthardt would oppose 
this tendency, and would reinstate the memory in its rights. He 
appears just as many teachers are becoming weary of the old super- 
fine and barren grammar, and many of the school authorities of the 
increasing complaints about the small results of the study of language 
in the schools. He offers them assistance, and thus meets with great 
success. His " Loci Memoriales '' are intended for the most various 
use, and to become an entirely new element in teaching language ; a 
most important one, since they are to constitute a central point for 
them all ; grammar, reading, speaking, and writing. 

Various teachers have announced that passages from the classics 
were to be committed to memory in their schools ; but Ruthardt re- 
jects the matter and the manner of these former memorizings. His 
objection to the manner is, that it is not methodical. The custom has 
been, once for all to have the memorized matter recited, without 
coming back to it and impressing it indelibly on the memory by 
repetition. Still less has it been thought of to explain what has been 
so learned from all possible points of view, and to vary it in all ways. 
The matter he rejects, because merely the first suitable passages have 
been arbitrarily taken from the most various classical authors, without 
any definite object in the selection. He is especially opposed to com- 
mitting poetical extracts ; considering them suitable only for the very 
lowest elementary instruction. On this point, he quotes from Quinc- 
tilian : — " If T am asked what is the greatest art of memory, I 
answer, it is exercise, and labor. To memorize much, and think it 
over, if possible, daily, is a most efficient practice. (For this reason, 
as I have directed, boys ought to commit to memory as much as 
possible ; and whatever be the assistance which their age affords in 
the undertaking, the first effort should be to get over the wearisome- 
ness which attends the first practice of repeating matters so often, and 
and as it were chewing over again the same food. This will be most 
easily accomplished by beginning to commit short portions, and such 
as are not of an irksome kind) . . . and poetical matter in the 
first place, and next historical extracts, such as are freest from any 
rhythmical character, and also most different from ordinary speech ; 
such as the productions of the lawyers.'' 

Upon this extract Ruthardt remarks : — " The word labor can be 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 27 1 

appropriate to the learning of poetical matter, only in case it is of so 
solid a character as to demand an unsuitable amount of intellectual 
labor for explaining it ; and as little as the word cogitare be used of 
the learning and reciting it, since the rhythm helps the mind forward, 
and withdraws the attention from the words and the thoughts. But 
if by learning and reciting poetry the composition of it is meant, a 
much higher degree of abstraction is requisite for this than for prose ; 
and the attainment of this sort of abstraction can not be accomplished, 
except by means of prose." 

A careful examination of Quinctilian's words will show that he 
means precisely the opposite to Ruthardt's interpretation of him. 
The scholar must begin with learning poetry, says Quinctilian, and 
then proceed to orations, such as are least rhythmic in character ; like 
those of the lawyers. That intelligent author saw that poetry, by 
reason of its beautiful form, and next to it the euphonious periods of 
the orators, would most easily impress themselves upon the memory of 
youth ; for youth delights in poetry above all things. Among the 
most difficult styles to commit, however, according to him, is a 
prose with the least approach to rhythm ; a prose in which not beauty 
and euphony of periods is sought, but only a sufficient precision of 
expression ; like the prose of the jurists. Quinctilian benevolently 
proposed to lighten the labor of memorizing, by directing short les- 
sons to be taken first, and such moreover as should not be uncon- 
genial to the learner ; poetry, therefore, first of all. This Ruthardt 
overlooks, and lays all the stress upon the two words labor and cog- 
itare ; in the use of which Quinctilian had reference not to the fifth 
classes of schools, but to students of rhetoric* who were soon to 
enter into active life as orators. When, therefore, Ruthardt opposes 
the memorizing and repeating of poetry, because there goes to it no 
labor and no cogitare — "since the rhythm helps forward the learner, 
and draws his attention off from the words and the thoughts " — it 
might very naturally be supposed that he recommended the selection 
of matter the least rhythmic for memorizing, from the apprehension 
that the beautiful and euphonious periods of the orator, with their 
"Freer music of prosaic numbers,"f just like the rhythm of the poet, 
would act unfavorably upon the thinking faculty, and by their beauty 
of form abstract the attention from thorough thinking. 

But that this is not Ruthardt's meaning is evident, or why has he 
actually set forth a selection of beautiful prose extracts as material for 
learning ? What he meant was only this : that poetical matter was 
not so well calculated as prosaic for judicious memorizing, for the 

•These students of rhetoric, for whom especially Quinctilian was writing, had already 
completed their studies in grammar. 
t An expression of Jacobs. 



272 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

combination with it of mental drilling, and for developing grammat- 
ical principles out of it, &c. 

He had, however, a much deeper reason besides for admitting no 
poetry into his '•'' Loci ; " for not only has he excluded the poets, but, 
for the higher classes, almost every prose writer except Cicero. Even 
Livy is prohibited. As early as the fifth and fourth classes, Cicero is 
the central point of the exercises in memorizing, a iQ\i other authors 
being resorted to in these classes from mere necessity, to illustrate 
points which Cicero does not reach. 

But why Cicero, and nothing but Cicero? Ruthardt replies, that 
" Cicero alone is accounted the model of Latin style ; " and he zeal- 
ously ojjposes Mager, who would select from a variety of prose and 
poetic writers for his " Loci Memoriahsr If this is permitted, he 
says, the great object of having a fixed standard and central point 
for the study of language is given up ; and the most important 
requisite for writing Latin is quite passed by. 

The writing of Latin is the object, then, that is here steadily aimed 
at again, whether good or evil come of it. If Ruthardt's views 
prevail, we shall, without knowing it, be carried back again to the 
ideals, tendencies, and methods of the earlier Ciceronians and to 
Pogianus, whom we have quoted. They confined themselves wholly to 
the study of Cicero. " Since Cicero is evidently the greatest master 
of Latin eloquence and style," says Pogianus, " I have rejected all 
the other Latinists." Precisely like Ruthardt, he advises that you 
" commit to memory much out of Cicero ; preparing, as it were, an 
extensive wardrobe, out of which you may select many splendid 
garments for varying and changing the clothing of your speeches." 

Is it an entirely vain fear, that the time of that unhappy old car- 
icaturing, which called itself Ciceronian, will be coming back upon us ? 
Indeed, we may more reasonably ask. Have the old ghosts yet ever 
entirely left us ? The following extract from a German gymnasium 
programme for 1841 may serve for a reply. Its author admits — 
for he can not help it — that the idea of a learned language is obso- 
lete, and can not be revived. But yet he advocates, in the spirit of 
that idea, the drilling of all gymnasium pupils in a Ciceronian Latin 
style; maintaining that, "In general, only a standard author should 
be read in the schools whose style is suitable to be imitated ; and 
any other author, Tacitus for example, should only be read for the 
purpose of comparison with the standard author, and for a short time ; 
and with the definite purpose of giving lessons in changing his style into 
that of the writer of the golden age, who is used as the standard." 

So far can the jack-o'-lantern of a false ideal lead a teacher astray, 
as to make him believe that a denaturalized, Latinized schoolboy can 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 2*73 

be made capable of transmuting the massive, condensed, and thought- 
ful style of Tacitus into flowing Ciceronian Latin ? That is, that he 
is able to do no less than to correct, like so many school exercises, the 
works of the greatest Roman historian ! But the scholars must 
meddle with Tacitus only for a little while, lest a longer intercourse 
should injure their Ciceronian style !* 

Does not Ruthardt's ideal coincide with that bove quoted, and that 
of so many other teachers ? Cicero is the standard classic, his style 
the standard style, the measure for all others. Other classic authors 
wrote well only in proportion as their style approached his. 

The highest aim of the scholar is to be, to write Ciceronian Latin. 
Let Cicero, therefore, be his daily guide and companion ; let him 
learn him by heart : and lethira always beware of all abnormal Latin ; 
of the abnormal classics ; of Tacitus. 

If that is classical education, God keep us from it ! 

An able philologistf has forcibly opposed Ruthardt's exercises for 
memorizing, so far as they are meant to serve as an introduction to a 
Latin style. Matter thus committed, he says, be it ever so well ex- 
plained and understood, " will never carry the scholar to any thing 
except a clumsy imitation." The scholar who " desires to express his 
own thoughts, will at once find himself left in the lurch; he will see 
that none of his thoughts correspond exactly with those of what he 
has learned. No sentence, which really has life and force in it, will 
reappear in his mind, entirely in the form in which he learned it. 

Real facHity in writing Latin, such as F. A. Wolf demands, is dia- 
metrically opposed to this clumsy imitation — to this false facility in 
mimicking Cicero. What is to be understood by this clumsy imita- 
tion, and what by real facility, has been shown in the most witty 
manner, in his " Ciceronianus^'' by Erasmus, a master in writing good 
Latin. " There is a silly endeavor," he says, " to write in a foreign 
spirit ; to make Cicero's spirit appear to the reader in our works. 
What is really needed is, that you think over in various lights what 
you have read, and by meditation upon it introduce it rather into the 
very veins of your mind than into the memory, or an index ; so that 
your mind, nourished with all manner of intellectual food, will itself 
furnish a style which shall not smack of this and the other blossom, 
or twig, or grass-leaf, but of the very essence and character of your 
own soul ; so that the reader may see in your writing, not a patch- 
work of fragments of Cicero, but the impress of a mind full of knowl- 

* A like apprehension deters theological students from reading Augustin and Tertullian. 
Something unclassical or barbarous will unawares stick to them, and come out in their Latin 
examination exercises. 

'['■'■Examination of Ruthardt's Plans," (Belenchlung des Ruthardtschen Plnn^,) by Dr. U. 
Feter, gymnasium director, 1843. 



274 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

edge of all Idnds. Bees gather the materiak fur their honey, not 
from one bush ; but, with wonderful industry, they fly about amongst 
flowers and plants of all kinds. They gather in, moreover, not 
ready-made honey; but they prepare it themselves in their mouths, 
and bowels ; produce it themselves ; and men taste in it nothing of 
the taste and smell of the single blossom which supplied it." 

Is the chief object of Ruthardt, and of his followers, in being so 
strenuous about memorizing, and about extracts exclusively from 
Cicero, entirely distinct from the false ideal of those Ciceronians 
whom Erasmus attacks so keenly in his " Ckeroniantis^ .giving at 
the same time so con'ect an ideal of training in style ? It is not 
Cicero alone that you must read, he says ; the bees fly about to blos- 
soms and shrubs of all kinds. And yon must not lodge classical 
quotations in your memory, like undigested food ; but must infuse 
them into the mental circulation. You must not present to the 
reader a patchwork of memorized Ciceronianisms, of phrases varied 
here and there ; but your mind, nourished and strengthened by the 
healthy assimilation of classical works, should appear in its own 
original character in your writings, without reminding U:*, directly, 
of any books whatever. So says Erasmus. 

Politian agrees with him entirely. He compares, as we have seen, 
the imitators to parrots and magjiies, who speak words they do not 
understand. What they write, he says, is untrue ; without substance 
or efficacy ; having no power or vitality. He advises to study much 
and long in Cicero, and in many other good authors, " When the 
student has mastered these, and gathered together a treasure of 
knowledge within himself, he will produce independently, without any 
strict reference to Cicero. One who runs, and insists on treading pre- 
cisely in the footsteps of his predecessor, can not run well ; and he can 
not write well, who does not dare to vary from a copy. In short, it 
shows a barren brain, to produce nothing, but only imitate." 

Erasmus would side with Director Peter against Ruthardt'^s method, 
as calculated to produce nothing but clumsy imitation ; not so much 
to educate, as merely to drill. He would shake his bead at Ruthardt's 
claim, that by his method the scholar would learn to think m Latin. 
" My great teacher, Rudolph Agricola," he would say, " who surpassed! 
all others this side the Alps in learning, who was the first of Latin- 
ists, said that the way to write Latin was, to think and write carefully 
in the native language, and then only to translate into Latin." Has 
classical education in the nineteenth century progressed so far that its 
pupils can surpass Agricola, and without more ado think in Latin ? 

Who will venture to answer, "Yes; our scholars have arrived at 
he point where their thoughts arise in their minds, originally embod- 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 275 

led, born, in Latin words ? " Let none deceive themselves on this 
point. Their furthest attainment is only this : to have stored away 
in their memory a mass of Latin phrases, ready at their command, 
without its being necessary for them first to translate them from Ger- 
man into Latin. But is this thinking in Latin ? If a beginner in 
French has learned the phrase Coinment vous 2>ortez-voxis ? and takes 
the first opportunity to use it without first translating it from How do 
you do? is he to have the credit of thinking in French ? 

There is an unfortunate reaction to be apprehended from drilling 
youth to write and to speak phrase-Latin ; a reaction upon their 
German style. On the other hand, the classical study recommended 
by Erasmus, in the above quotation from him, for acquiring a pure 
Latin style, will have an influence even more strongly favorable upon 
the vernacular style ; and in it the search after Latin words and 
phrases, to be collected together into a lifeless and mannered Latin 
composition, is omitted. The right study of the classics improves 
the man ; and therefore it improves his German style. 

That Ruthardt's method of studying Latin does not favorably influ 
ence the German style, might very well be gathered from the German 
which he writes himself. Even for an approving reader it is no light 
task to read through Ruthardt's larger work. 

Voices have already been raised in favor of treating the German 
classics on Ruthardt's plan ; to select out some materials for instruc- 
tion in German, to be used like the '■'•Loci Memorialesr Professor 
Reuter, for instance, says, " Is it not true that Schiller's "Song of the 
Bell" alone, explained in its material and formal characters, put in 
connection with other extracts, and indelibly impressed upon the 
memory, would be a more valuable acquisition than if he had read 
the half of Schiller, without working it out thoroughly, comparing it, 
and committing it permanently to memory ? " 

I was terrified at reading this, and remembered my youth and 
youthful companions ; how with passionate love we read Schiller's 
poetical works over and over again, and so far from having to be 
kept at it by our teachers, they had to restrain us from it. This love 
made what we read impress itself upon our minds "permanently" 
and "indelibly,'' without any man's taking pains to impress it upon us. 
With Cicero and with Horace, we had already gone through the 
"explanation of material and formal relations;" but an explanation 
of our German Schiller was thoroughly repugnant to us ; it would 
have been like poison to our love. In like manner, thousands of 
the volunteers of 1813 "memorized" Schiller's "Knights' Song;" it 
was sung very enthusiastically in all the encampments during tile 
war of freedom. DoesProfessorReuter believe that, if the " Knjght&'" 



276 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

Song" had been at school "explained in its material and formal rela- 
tions, put into connection with other extracts, and indelibly impressed 
upon the memory," the volunteers would have understood it better, 
or that, at that great period, it would have been sung with more en- 
thusiasm ? 

The only thing that remains to be done, is to select some German 
author — Garve for instance — to constitute him a normal author, and 
to show that his works are a canon for German style. From these 
works there should be selected a hundred or two pages of material 
to be learned ; this should be "judiciously " memorized by the scholars, 
so that they shall have a store of German phrases in their minds for 
all occasions. Let the ideal object of this course be, to bring the 
pupils to speak and write German as they do Latin ; to make orations 
that shall fit their mouths as well as those of puppets do theirs, and 
to have puppet-director Garve speak for them all with one and the 
same voice — like the performance at a theater of marionnettes. 

This is not merely a joke. Many things have happened in our 
times which intelligent men would formerly have thought impossible. 

To return to our Latin. Ruthardt directs that the scholar should 
take up the same sentence a hundred or even four hundred times, 
that he may thoroughly understand it, and learn to love it ! Renter 
agrees with him, on the classical principle decies repetita placebit.* 
Peter opposes this view, saying very correctly that the time for the 
scholar to recur to the sentence is when he has attained to a higher 
standard of attainment. The sentence remains the same, but the 
scholar has meanwhile changed. He sees the sentence with new 
eyes ; his power of seeing has increased ; and he therefore reads it 
with new interest, as something new.f 

Material to which the scholar is again and again to return can 
not be too carefully chosen and arranged, and its extent should not 
be too great. How much in the dark Ruthardt and his adherents are 
on these three points, appears in the very various material of their 
"Loci Memorialesy As to selection, there is, as we have already 
iremarked, no principle of arrangement, except that short sentences 
come first and longer ones afterward ; and the amount of matter is 

• What would the scholar say to this ■? Compared with this repetition, a hundred or four 
hundred timesof the same sentence, what Gesner calls deliberate reading would be the 
merest cursoriness. 

1 1 have had a like experience with students of mineralogy. On introducing a beginner, for 
histance. to the group -of quartzes, the clearer and simpler facts struck hirn at once, as did 
Ihe great, beautiful crystals, while he observed the smaller and more complicated traits 
neither with eye nor understanding. Far from attempting to force him to a degree of thor- 
OJighness for which he was unprepared, I led him on through other easy groups, and brought 
him back to the quartzes after eight or twelve weeks. His eye and his intellect had alike 
now grown more acute ; and he was delighted to perceive and understand so much that was 
new, and wondered only that it had before escaped him. 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 277 

mucli too great. If, however, Riilliardt's direction is to be lit- 
erally complied with, that the teachers also are to commit the 
" Loci " to memory, this would do much to preserve a right 
proportion ! 

Ruthardt's method was received at its appearance with great ap- 
plause, especially hymen of influence, and there seemed a fair prospect 
of its introduction into the educational world. On the other hand, 
many experienced teachers took decided ground against it, especially 
against its being brought into practice in the way its originator 
recommended. It has been the case with many earlier pedagogical 
novelties, that they have been pushed even to the point of caricature 
by their originators ; and have only by a later hand been reduced 
within the limits of moderation, relieved of their absurd features, 
and put into a practical form. Such was the case with Basedow, 
Ratich, and others. We may hope that, after Ruthardt's method 
shall have passed through a severe fire of purification, it may exer- 
cise a healthful influence upon our schools. It is already doing it 
negatively, by opposing the overstraining of the scholars' intellects, 
in abstract and abstruse grammatical studies; and indeed positively, 
inasmuch as Ruthardt puts the memory in its proper place, by means 
of exercises for it, arranged in a definite order ; although this is not 
true to an equal degree. There seems also reason to believe that 
some " material for teaching language," {sprachlicher Lernstoff,) as 
Ruthardt calls it, either a sl^ort chrestomathy or some small classical 
work, might be very usefully introduced, and the scholar required 
from time to time to come back to it. If, at the first reading, this 
material should be too hard to be understood, or should be only su- 
perficially understood, it would be very pleasant for the pupils, after 
some years perhaps, to return to it and find themselves able to un- 
derstand it more thoroughly. At every successive recurrence, in like 
manner, they would find themselves able to understand it more freely 
and adequately, and that too with less and less effort.* 
(f. Meierotto.) 

We shall, by way of supplement, here characterize a method which 
has been brought forward by Johann Heinrich Meierotto, rector of 
the Joachimsthal Gymnasium at Berlin ; a teacher of such reputation 
in Northern Germany, that it has been said of him, that what Fred- 
eric the Great was among kings, such is he among the rectors. 

In 1785 he published his works already referred to, ^^ Latin Gram- 

• It is the more to be wished that Ruthardt may live to see some actual result from his 
labors, because they have been performed vvith very great honesty and care, and bear no- 
where the marks of vanity or charlatanery-.— a fault which belongs to most inventors of new 
methods. 



278 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

mar, in examples from the classical writers,^'' [Lateinische Grammatik 
in Beispielen aus den Klassischen, Schriftsellern^ It is in two parts. 
The first contains the examples in the usual grammatical order ; 
its first half, including twenty-seven pages, being entitled " Parts of 
Speech," and the second, including a hundred and forty-six pages, 
under the title of " Syntax." The examples for the forms occupy 
most space ; each case, mood, tense, person, &c., being represented 
by one or more examples. The paradigm for the first declension is, 

Nom. Natura dux optima. 

Gen. Vitce brevis est cursus, glorice sempiternus. 

Dat. Non scholce sed vitce discendura. 

Ace. Famam curant multi, pauci conscientiam. 

Voc. fortuna, ut nunquam perpetuo es bona. 

Abl. Vacare culpa magnum est solatium. 

The paradigm for the first conjugation begins : Active voice, indic- 
ative mood, present tense, singular : — 

Omnia mea mecum porta. 

Sors tua mortalis, non est mortale quod optas. 

Optat ephippia bos piger ; optat arare caballus. 

The word to be attended to is distinguished by different print. 
The sentences are numbered in a regular order, and they come into 
use more than once, as illustrating different cases ;* so that they 
become more strongly impressed upon the memory. 

The second part of Meierotto's grammar contains the "Introduction 
to the practice of grammar." The introductory chapter contains 
much valuable matter, founded upon experience in teaching, from 
which I shall give some extracts. 

Meierotto distinctly opposes the idea that Latin, like the mother 
tongue, is to be taught by mere practice. 

"Latin ought not to displace the native language ; a boy ought not 
too early to be removed from relations in which he can acquire facil- 
ity in his native tongue and in expressing his ideas in it.'' The 
teacher must beware that while his pupil acquires facility in the dead 
language, his command of his own shall not be lost or even dimin- 
ished. " The boy knows already that he must learn the classic lan- 
guage, while on the contrary he found the living language, like his 
first ideas which be expressed in it, already in his mind, without 
having to make any especial effort for it."f 

"I give," says Meierotto, "a grammar without definitions, axioms, 
postulates; in short, without any rules; a grammar of examples ; 

* Thus, for example, "i^oTnoTO o/ran/ wjt///j" " gives an instance of 1. Jstdecl., ace. ; 2. 2nd 
decl.. nom. plu. ; 3. 1st conj., 3d pers. plu. indie, aet. ; 4. The verb governing an accusative. 

tThis profound thought reminds one of similar observations by W. von Humboldt and E. 
Wackernage. 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 279 

from which the boy himself can deduce the rules." Rules so ob- 
tained will remain the longer in the memory. 

All the quotations are from classic writers. " The strictly ancient 
and strictly Latin authors, who are wholly distinct from the com- 
moner authors, who merely adhere to the forms, make a much 
deeper impression upon the memory.'' " Each extract exemplifies one 
instance of Latin usage, necessary for the scholar ; and to be learned 
in its proper order." This order corresponds with that which has 
prevailed from antiquity in the Latin grammar ; and in this order the 
rules are to be developed by induction, by the scholars themselves. 
This they will easily do, if the requisite material is every day laid be- 
fore them in the right order and manner. Only, the beginner " must 
not be plagued with the terrible exceptions to exceptions." " Why 
should they, like our forefathers in their grammatical studies, instead of 
confining themselves to what is beautiful, seek, like new Herculeses, 
the jaws of monsters, and other adventures? and pursue an anomaly- 
hunt through all the authors, and fragments of authors, that exist ? 

The more important of these examples are to be committed to 
memory ; a task not very difficult, the scholar having them already 
half-memorized, by translation, explanation, <fec. "These extracts 
remain as authorities in the boy's mind ; and by them he examines 
and corrects his Latin." 

After this introduction, comes a direction to the teacher how to use 
the collection of examples. The scholar receives first an interlinear 
version of each extract, in bad German, and unintelligible ; which is 
to be put into good German. The word in each sentence, printed in 
large characters, is to be especially attended to, and written down bj'' 
the scholar. The first sentence was Nattira dux optima. " Natura, 
nature; dux, guide ; optima, the best. Nature guide the best. That 
does not sound well ; can it be improved by varying the arrangement, 
or otherwise ? Nature the best guide. There is still something 
wanting. Say, nature is the best guide ; adding only est^ is," &c. 

Meierotto's method is similar to those of Ratich, Locke, and Ham- 
ilton, in commencing, not with abstract grammar, but with extracts 
from Latin classics. It diflfers from them, however, in that they make 
a basis of some one author, Terence, JEsop, the gospel of John, &c., 
and depend upon whatever opportunity such author may offer for 
abstracting the grammatical rules from it. It is clear, however, that 
in such a way not even a moderately complete grammar can be 
formed ; scai'cely the complete paradigm of one conjugation or de- 
clension. Meierotto, on the conti-ary, has, with unheard of industry, 
gathered illustrative extracts from all the classics, arranged them in the 
order of the grammar, and caused his scholars to deduce the gram- 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

mar from them. He himself taught the beginners on his system a 
whole half-year, and only then published his method. There was 
probably more than one reason for this. The system needed skillful 
teachers ; and even then most of the extracts, especially the laconic- 
ally short ones, were probably too hard for the pupils, perhaps, al- 
though the teacher should adapt his interpretation as much as possi- 
ble to the powers of the scholar. The method also requires too 
much from the scholar's reasoning faculties. "The understanding," 
says F. A. Wolf, " must not at first be drawn upon.'' 

But would not Meierotto's book be useful, in the third class per- 
haps, as the text-book for a thorough review of the whole grammar ? 
Every one will recognize the value of such a refreshing of what is 
earlier learned ; and could it be had in a better and less repulsive 
way, than by the reading of extracts in a grammatical succession ?* 

(g. Jacobs.) 
Jacobs' Latin elementary books, and still more his Greek ones, 
agree in one respect with Meierotto's grammar ; that is, they begin 
with extracts, which proceed in the order of the grammar, and exem- 
plify it. These exemplifications, however, do not touch upon the 
smallest single points, one at a time, like Meierotto's ; but for this a 
reason is given. Jacobs remarks, in the valuable preface to the first 
edition of his Greek elementary book, that 

It is practicable, by a suitable method, without failing in thoroughness, to save 
the beginner much labor. On this principle, the proceeding of those is to be dis- 
approved, who put him at once to reading, with the intention that he shall pick 
up his elementary knowledge, from time to time, as he goes on ; as well as that 
of those who would cause him himself to deduce the elements of speech from 
examples set before him, and thus to construct his own grammar. The former 
tends to superficiality, and the last is indescribably wearisome. . . . The 
training of the mental powers must always be the first object of instructing the 
young ; but not the only object. Whenever practicable, the pupil should do 
nothing without thinking. But to force him to do every thing by thinking it out, 
would make his studies miserable, and his life too. 

Jacobs is distinctly opposed to Meierotto's method. The arrange- 
ment of the extracts in his elementary books, corresponding with the 
arrangement of the grammar, is not to serve as a source from which 
to deduce grammatical rules by abstraction, but rather to run parallel 
with them,f and to form their complement. Thus " the dry 
skeleton of the paradigms is to acquire a corporeal covering ; and an 
early practice of what is learned is secured. The labor of learning 
the paradigms should be remitted in no case." 

* In a high class of a gymnasium, none of the scholars, otherwise of creditable attainmeats, 
knew the full imperative of hortor. 

t Or, perhaps, rather to follow close behind them. " The first course of the Latin element- 
ary book," says Jacobs, " should be read by the scholar when he has become acquainted with 
the declensions, and with the paradigms of the regular verbs. The scholar should, in this 
work, learn not to understand these forms fully, so much as to remember them." 



METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 281 

" It is impracticable," sa3's Jacobs, " to arrange sentences in a strict 
grammatical order, so that nothing shall appear in the text which 
shall not already have been mastered in the grammar. This I think 
no great disadvantage ; since the teacher will, at first, direct the 
scholar only to the words distinguished by their print, and will him- 
self translate the others without any further analysis, until the scholar 
is able to deal with all the words himself." This mode of proceed- 
ing is entirely like Meierotto's. 

Jacobs' purpose in using extracts in a grammatical order, to ob- 
tain a body for the dry skeletons of paradigms, and a prompt ap- 
plied use of the principles learned, is pursued in other ways by other 
teachers.* They cause the grammar which has been learned to be 
brought into practice as far as is practicable, by making simple Latin 
sentences. For this purpose they depart from the usual arrangement 
of the grammar. When the pupils have learned the first two de- 
clensions (except adjectives,) they learn esse^ so as to be able to con- 
struct short sentences. This construction, again, naturally leads to 
the use of the first rules of syntax ; so that distant parts of the 
grammar are thus brought into connection with each other. After 
suflBcient drill upon this knowledge, the pupils take up the third de- 
clension, and so on. Together with the paradigms, the meaning of 
the words used in them are acquired ; which enlarges the material 
for making sentences. 

CONCLUSION. 

Thus we have examined very various methods of teaching Latin ; 
some ignoring the ancient grammatical order, and some supplement- 
ary to it. Except Ruthardt's plan, all of them have been for begin- 
ners ; and from all of them the intelligent educator can learn more 
or less that is useful. A wise eclecticism is, however, to be recom- 
mended, examining the spirit, and considering the judgment, of each 
master — of Gesner, Wolf, Meierotto, Jacobs ; but, on the other hand, 
not permitting itself to be turned aside by outcries made for the sake 
of drawing attention. 

Before all, I repeat, we must be clear in our idea of what the 
study of the ancient languages is to be. No right method of instruc- 
tion can be thought out, without constant reference to its object ; to 
the nearest and furthest objects to be reached by the school. 

The ultimate object of classical studies is, thorough comprehension 
of the classics ; enlargement of the sphere of historical knowledge ; 
thorough scientific attainment ; in short, cultivation. 

* Principal Lauff, on the method of elementary instruction in Latin, " Annjial Report for 
1840 — 1841 of the Royal Gymnasium at Munster" — (Jahresbericht vber das R. Gymnamum 
zu Munster in dem Schuljahre, 1840 — 1841.) This is a very valuable discussion. In the 
present work I have discussed, in several places, points on which I differ from the author. 



282 METHODS OF TEACHING LATIN. 

The first-named object, thorough comprehension, must precede all 
others ; since through that alone they become possible. The instruc- 
tion in language of the schools is directed especially to the acquirement 
of this knowledge ; its first object being, that the scholar shall have a 
full memory and clear understanding upon all grammatical matters ; 
and, secondly, that he shall acquire a copia verhorum. For this end 
is designed the diligent reading of the classics, during which the 
grammar is reviewed, applied, worked out in more details, and the 
requisite actual meanings mastered ; whereas, by a mere cursory 
reading, he would obtain barely a foretaste of scientific pleasure. 

Johannes Sturm gives a valuable rule for the assistance to be given 
by the teacher. He says, "Hasten, so that nothing necessary shall 
be omitted " — this refers especially to cursory reading — " and delay, 
so that nothing but what is necessary shall be done " — which refers 
to reading for the purpose of study. 

It is very important that these two kinds of reading should be 
rightly managed, and carried on in the right proportion to each other. 
If the style of reading is too rapid, there is danger of superficiality, 
of guessing at meanings, and of slurring over difficulties ; from which 
is afterward apt to be derived a weak, indecisive, and dilettanteish 
habit of looking for nothing but pleasure in the study. A method 
of reading which is, on the otlier hand, too slow, wearisome, and 
overthorough — which requires too much from the scholar, and which 
occupies so much time in minutiae and digressions that the text be- 
comes smothered in the notes — wearies the mind, and destroys all 
interest in the classics. 

All the grammatical labors of the scholar, from the first learning 
of the paradigms by rote, down to the end of the instruction in syn- 
tax, the practice of grammar by writing, and the grammatical side 
of the interpretation of the classical writers, has, more or less, for its 
object, the dealing with language itself, in general. The further his 
progress, the more prominent does this object become ; and, most of 
all, when, either at school or later at the university, he becomes mas- 
ter of several language^, and somewhat acquainted with the nature 
and historical development of his native language, and with the com- 
parative study of languages, and thus arrives at a more profound view 
of the nature of language itself. And, with the exception of religion, 
there is no higher or worthier object of human investigation or knowl- 
edge than language. 

Even this exception fails, according to the declaration of Luther, 
that " Theology is only grammar, occupied upon the words of the 
Holy Spirit." " This declaration," says Hamann, " is sublime, and 
adequate to the lofty ideal of divine learning." 



SCHOOLS OF SCIENCE AND ART. 



I HAVE already noticed the contrast between the culture of our 
educated classes and that of our laboring classes and artizans ; and 
the corresponding contrast of their modes of education. 

This latter contrast T have already touched upon, so far as it appears 
in the two classes of gymnasia on one hand, and polytechnic and 
other similar schools, in which mathematics and natural science aro 
the leading studies, on the other. 

I would gladly have described the mode in which musicians, paint- 
ers, sculptors, &c., have been trained in the days of the greatest of 
them. But I Ml myself unprepared for this task, and must leave it 
to men like Waagen, Kugler, and others, already acquainted with the 
subject. These two classes of schools, those for students and those 
for artists, resemble parallel lines, which run on side by side without 
touching each other, while, notwithstanding, each might adopt from 
the other many useful things. 

Considerations of this nature induced me, some thirty years ago, to 
write the following essay, which I now lay before the reader with some 
variations and additions. It makes no claim to completion in detail, 
but merely gives some hints of the relations between the classes edu- 
cated to literature, and artists and artizans; and of the mode in which 
they might more and more pass into a beneficial mutual operation. 
Such a drawing together would necessarily have the greatest influence 
upon the school system. 

I. LEARNED EDUCATION. — EDUCATION TO ARTS AND TRADES. 

Children of all conditions receive at first nearly the same instruc- 
tion, in reading, writing, arithmetic and religion. Subsequently, modes 
of instruction deviate, that in religion only remaining the same in all. 

I propose here to trace two of these modes, those named above. 
A person destined for a mechanical or artistic pursuit, probably 
attends, after completing his elementary instruction, a burgher school, 
or the lower classes of a classical school ; where he learns at furthest 
only the rudiments of Latin, and then takes a place as an apprentice 
in some workshop. Any one intended for a learned profession, on 
the other hand, pursues his studies further onward at the schools and 



284 SCHOOLS OF SCIENCE AND ART. 

the university. From the moment when these two paths diverge, 
they become more and more distant from each other : one of them 
aiming at power ; an art : and the other at knowing ; a knowledge or 
science.* 

The apprentice of an art or trade does not come to his master to 
listen to him and look at him, at his ease, as a hearer or spectator, to 
observe what the master does, to talk about his work, and to learn to 
give a description of it. He must lay hold with his own hands, and 
seek by long practice to acquire skill in the performance of certain 
definite processes. The " master-piece " which is commonly required 
of him is some article completed by him, as a bureau, a horse-shoe, a 
watch, or the like. It is skill — a practical power — which he needs, 
for upon it is to be based all his future success as a citizen. 

The path of learned study is very different from this. The appren- 
tice of learning does not exert himself, as does the other, in mere ex- 
ternal activity, in training his senses and members, his eye and hand, 
but usually sits still and receives most of his instruction in an oral 
form. Listening and reading books are his principal duties, both at 
school and at the university. By words he is to become acquainted 
with his world. Language is the key to this world, and accordingly 
to learn language is the first of his duties. Oral lectures, and books, 
are to carry him away from the present, among the nations of distant 
countries and ancient times ; oral lectures and books are the means 
by which many study even the pure mathematics, without practicing 
them. For " master-pieces," are given the doctor's dissertation and 
disputation, which are principally to prove that the apprentice is now 
a master of words. 

After such different courses of training, the accomplished student 
must naturally be a person entirely different from the accomplished 
artist 01 artizan ; and they can comprehend each other only with dif- 
ficulty. Let us consider the two extremes to which these courses of 
instruction tend ; the pedant, and the mere mechanic. 

The pedant lives entirely in thinking ; knows much : can do noth- 
ing. His training has divided him from the actual world ; his study 
and his library are his world. 

Thus he is estranged from all the affairs of civil life, and becomes 
entirely unfit to manage them. Unacquainted with the present, he 
transfers himself by the magic wand of his books, to distant places 

* I here take the idea of " art" in its widest sense, as including both such arts as subserve 
the necessities of life — mechanical occupations — and the free or fine arts. These last are 
usually based upon the former, being related to them as the clear, pure, transparent rock- 
crystal is to the common opaque quartz. Many occupations, such for instance as the potter's, 
stone-cutter's, mason's, <tc., belong both to one and the other class, as they are conducted. 
The reader will see for himself that I have had the mechanical trades chiefly in my mind. 



SCHOOLS OF SCIENCE AND ART. 285 

and times ; and can tell much more about Greece and Rome than 
about his native city. He understands about the Ionic, Attic and 
Doric dialects, but not the Low Dutch and High Dutch ; he knows 
exactly the road which Xenophon followed with his army, but not 
that to the nearest village. If he is a mathematician, he can com- 
pute all the formulas of mechanics, but can not state the construction 
of a hand-mill, let alone the building of one. 

I am describing a pedant, it should be remembered; and justice 
of course requires me to describe also a mere mechanic, or a mere 
artist. Such a one lives entirely in the present. Absorbed in inces- 
sant manual labor, obliged to it in order to get a living, he looks no 
further than to his own immediate surroundings, his shop, his home, 
his village ; and he does not extend his sphere of vision beyond them, 
even by reading in books. He does not inquii'C how others practice 
the same occupation, or whether improvements are made in it ; but 
merely pursues it exactly as it was taught him, without any desire to 
perfect him.self, or to put what he is doing into words, that he may 
communicate it to others. If a master-workman, he instructs his 
apprentices and journeymen rather by actions, by doing the work 
while they look on, than by oral explanations. 

Such learned men or artizans or artists as these, seem to grow less 
and less common. The interferences of actual life have always been 
in the way of the narrow quietism of learned culture. The physician, 
the judge, the advocate, the preacher, are by their offices obliged more 
or less to shake off the dust of the schools, to open their eyes to the 
present, to come into relations with other men, to exercise decision in 
living and acting. 

Only those of that profession which is preeminently termed the 
literary, and who are commonly also instructors,* needing as such, in 
order to efficient exertion, the clearest views, certainty, promptness and 
decision in action and speech, and skill and presence of mind in the 
management of pupils — the members of this profession alone remain, 
mostly, helpless, indecisive, and lacking in character. During the last 
century or two, however, even this class of men has been brought 
nearer to real life, while on the other hand, artists and artizans have 
been awakening from their narrow and merely instinctively laborious 
activity, into a habit of wider vision and increased reflectiveness. 
Thus the hterary and non-literary classes are approximating. 

11. HOW MEN OF LEARNING GRADUALLY APPROACH ACTUAL LIFE. — FUTURE 
PROSPECTS. 

Learning was at an early period the exclusive property of the 

* In Germany, a very large share of learned writers are professors in universities.— Trans, 



286 SCHOOLS OF SCIENCE AND ART. 

monks. In their solitary cells, entirely secluded from the "world, 
they would naturally shape out a world for themselves, from books 
and their own imaginations. But after the Reformation had de- 
stroyed the convents, the Protestant man of learning went out into 
the free outer world at his pleasure, and naturally became connected 
with it. 

At the same period there awoke in many persons a powerful im- 
pulse toward the investigation of nature ; a pursuit with which only 
a very few individuals had before occupied themselves, and in which 
the way was led especially by Kepler, Galilei, and Bacon. 

The last of these endeavored principally to direct the eyes of stu- 
dents away from books, to the actual creation ; and gained many 
adherents. When in consequence, instead of mere speculation, and 
an inner world of mental pictures of distant times and places, devel- 
oped from the reading of books, the observation of the present crea- 
tion began to be practiced, attention was bestowed upon the many 
arts which subserve the purposes of life, while they deal with nature ; 
and thus resulted an unconscious following of the laws of nature. 
The botanist could not avoid dealing with the gardener, the mineral- 
ogist with the miner, the optician with the dyer, glass-cutter, &c. 
Such connections gradually brought about, in Germany, England 
and France, entirely new relations and transactions among investiga- 
tors of nature, artists, and working men. This is indicated by the 
societies founded for the scientific development of industry, the tech- 
nologies upon which lectures were delivered even at the German 
universities ; the gazettes for arts and trades, and the industi-ial and 
polytechnic schools of Germany and France. All these things testify 
mainly to the point, that scientific men had set themselves to infuse 
their knowledge of nature and their mathematical knowledge into 
arts and trades. 

But it could not suffice that a method precisely opposite to the 
previous one was followed, that these men should merely afford 
information to artists and working men ; they must necessarily 
receive more and more from these latter. It was not enough to 
teach on the arts out of a book, nor by attentive observation in the 
workshops, to gain a sufficient knowledge of processes to enable the 
lecturer, by his practiced skill in speech and writing, to produce a 
description of what he had seen. It is not by reading that we learn 
to do, nor by looking on, or hearing explanation and descriptions. 
It is rather, and chiefly, by our own practice in it. This, Bacon 
saw, and for this principle he contended. He said. It is not merely 
a knowledge of nature that we need, but the dominion over her. 



SCHOOLS OF SCIENCE AND ART 287 

Knowledge of nature, and power over her, must go hand in hand.* 
On the same principle, others required that every member of a 
learned profession should learn some trade. A, H. Francke carried 
this idea into practice, by connecting with the Paedagogium at Halle, 
rooms where the pupils might practice turning and other mechanic 
arts. Rousseau and Moser were of the same opinion. What the 
latter especially contemplated was, some healthy and efficient recrea- 
tion ; a diversion from their labors, which should amuse them, and 
put their work out of their minds. By this means he would keep 
their bodily health good and their minds active. 

The advautage to men of literary occupations, of a knowledge of 
some mechanical trade, and especially of the possession of some skill 
in art, is scarcely estimable, even if they attain it by modestly learn- 
ing of artists or of artizans. I may quote a few instances. 

The successful pursuit of various sciences, such for instance as as- 
tronomy and natural science, depends closely upon the progress of 
certain arts ; and one who possesses skill both in such science and 
such arts, will labor most efficiently in that science. Thus, Doppel- 
mayer relates of the celebrated astronomer Regiomontanus, of Nu- 
remberg, that he made all sorts of instruments with his own hands, 
and with great skill ; and among others, a large metallic parabolic 
burning mirror. The same author mentions similar facta about 
various other Nuremberg mathematicians, particularl)'- of Johann 
Schoner; so that there seems to have existed in Nuremberg at that 
time, a remarkable union of sciences and arts. Herschel, again, owes 
his astronomical discoveries to the excellent telescopes which he him- 
self constructed. 

la the workshops, there operates a silent practical wisdom, of 
which many, in their school wisdom, have no conception ; and artists 
and artizans are in the habit of performing many processes of the 
utmost importance to science, but which are unknown to scientific 
men, and have therefore no place in any science. The man of science 
who will only instruct artists and artizans, but will not learn from 
them in the workshops, will make a great mistake. I may mention 
an instance or two, illustrative of the point. 

The great Kepler wrote a manual of gauging. For this purpose 
he did not shut himself up in his study, and endeavor by speculation 
to determine and compute the best form for a cask, but went and 
carefully examined the Austrian wine-casks — he was then living at 
Linz in Austria — and their peculiarities. And we find in his book a 

* " Perhaps the most frightful gift that an eril genius presents to the age." says Pestalozzi, 
" is knowledge without practical gkill.' 



288 SCHOOLS OF SCIENCE AND ART. 

chapter headed, "First wonderful property of an Austrian wine-cask ;" 
•and the next one is entitled, " The second and still more wonderful 
property of an Austrian wine-cask," In these two chapters he showed 
scientifically with what a correct mathematical mother-wit the form 
of these casks had been adopted. This great man thus learned from 
the coopers, and was able to instruct them in his turn. 

A second example. It has long been customary to try the strength 
of lye, wort, and metheglin, by floating an egg in them. This long- 
used experiment was the germ of the modern areometer, with its scale 
and various scientific additions. 

When the mason lays out a right angle with three cords of 3, 4 and 
5 feet long, does he use a method originally obtained from a learned 
mathematician, or has it been immemorially used without any knowl- 
edge of the Pythagorean problem ? 

Physicists are familiar with the experiment termed Leidenfrost's, 
of pouring a drop of water on a very hot iron plate, when, instead 
of going off in steam, it forms a roUing sphere which gradually dis- 
appears without any steam. This experiment was, however, known 
to laundresses long before Leidenfrost, without being learned out of a 
manual of mental philosophy. They try the heat of their flat-irons 
by spitting on them ; and if it does not hiss and steam, the iron is 
too hot; but if it does, it is not. I might cite other examples; but 
these are sufficient to show how many suggestions in natural philos- 
ophy an observant mind may discover in the workshops. 

From what has now been said, it will appear how much the suc- 
cessful progress of natural science and mathematics has to do with 
the cooperation of men of learning with artizans and artists, and how 
much this cooperation would be promoted by the endeavor on the 
part of men of learning to acquire more knowledge of and skill in 
the arts of manual exertion. Nor is it only the investigators of na- 
ture and the mathematicians on the one hand, and the artizans and 
artists on the other, who should come into this relation of mutual 
learning and teaching. The same should be the case with philolo- 
gists and historians. I need only mention Goethe, Wolf, Boeckh, and 
0. Miiller, the representatives of the realist philology. 

The closer connection between the instructing class and actual life, 
has had a distinct reaction upon the instruction of the young. Al- 
though the mode of instructing in learned studies may correspond in 
the main with the description which I have given, a new department 
has, especially during the last hundred years, been added to the 
ancient course of instruction, under the name of " real studies, 
{^ReaUen^Y including, principally, knowledge of nature, natural his- 



SCHOOLS OF SCIENCE AND ART. 289 

tory, industrial arts, and drawing. The mode in which these are 
taught may be exceedingly faulty in many respects, and is in partic- 
ular liable to the charge of endeavoring to teach new things in the 
old way, by communicating every thing orally. But in spite of this, 
time will bring about new methods for new studies ; and then nature, 
the senses, life, and cotemporary circumstances, will powerfully assert 
their rights both within and without the school. At the same time, 
these improvements should not be directed to procuring a premature 
preparation of the young for civic duties, a condition which imperils 
the success of human culture, but to secure a right beginning and 
solid basis for that culture. 

It scarcely needs to be added, that such instruction as this will 
exceedingly promote the approximation of the literary and non-liter- 
ary classes. 

m. DEVELOPMENT OF INDUSTRY ACCORDING TO THE VIEWS OF ADAM SMITH. 

Adam Smith laid down the principle that the great progress of 
industry in modern times resulted principally from the progress of the 
division of labor. 

Of this division there are three grades. In the rudest condition of 
society, each family provides for all its own necessities. Even now 
can be found, not only in foreign quarters of the world, but even in 
our own country, many neighborhoods where each family weaves, 
bakes, brews, makes clothes, shoes, &c., for itself. 

The first step in the division of labor was the devotion of individ- 
uals each to an employment, as weavers, tailors, shoemakers, bakers, 
brewers. As each of these devoted his whole life to one single em- 
ployment, each trade necessarily came to a much higher degree of 
perfection than when a father of a family was obliged to distribute 
his time and labor amongst so many different pursuits. 

Next came the second step, when the master of a trade became a 
manufacturing proprietor. It was now not enough that each man 
devoted himself to one occupation ; but the various departments of 
labor which this occupation required were anew distributed among 
as many operatives. The proprietor directed the labor of all his 
operatives to one object, usually without laboring himself, but being 
only the head of his establishment. Thus, for instance, while needle- 
making was formerly the business of one man, who himself cut the 
wire, pointed it, pierced the eye, &c., &c., the proprietor of a needle- 
factory now employed a separate workman for each of these depart- 
ments of labor. This management must undoubtedly have caused a 
further improvement in the work, as each operative devoted his whole 
attention and labor to a single part of the work. As he would 



290 SCHOOLS OF SCIENCE AND ART. 

acquire greater skill in this, the work would naturally be turned off 
faster, and would be cheaper. 

The manufacturers, however, soon perceived that in many things 
their operatives worked only with their hands, without using their 
heads at all ; and that such unintellectual hand-work might often be 
performed by machines instead of human hands. Thus the invention 
and perfection of machines, in England especially, became the third 
step (on Smith's principles) in industrial development. The further 
this step is carried, so much will unintelligent manual labor be dis- 
used. There will at last remain only such arts and trades as require 
the exertion not of the hands only, but of the mind also ; and labor- 
ers who like machines repeat all their lives long one and the same 
operation without change or aiming at improvement, will almost 
disappear. 

IT. SERVILE ART AND FREE FINE ART. 

The method of improving industry by the division of labor leads 
to the perfection of industrial products, which we 6nd among the 
English particularly ; to the manufacture of articles at once well 
made, cheap, and convenient. But to another department of the 
culture of industry, the English seem less inclined ; and indeed their 
manufacturing system seems to be directly opposed to it. 

Free fine art is in part a product of the prosperity of industrial art, 
which is its root. From the day-laborer who with difficulty builds 
him a hut of mud to the architect of the cathedral of Cologne, from 
the stone-mason who hews blocks for house-building to Phidias, 
from the potter who makes common pots and kettles to the designers 
of the beautiful antique vases, from the poor man who digs in bis 
garden to the most accomplished landscape gardener, there is au 
unbroken succession of grades. 

The great Durer began as a goldsmith, and proceeded from that to 
painting, and to copperplate and wood engraving. 

In the poorest hut we find ornamental articles designed not for 
necessity but for luxury. The poor man's dishes are painted; and in 
his garden he raises not only cabbages and turnips to live on, but 
flowers for pleasure. Thus we find everywhere, even in the lowest 
grades of society, and thence upward to the highest, a desire after 
freedom and beauty. But even in the highest grades, the curse of 
humanity prevails ; and the loftiest conceptions of the artist can be 
realized only by painful labor, " in the sweat of the face." 

V. INSTINCTIVE ART IMPELS TOWARD FREE SCIENTIFIC ART. 

As scientific men learn from artists, so on the other hand, practi- 



SCHOOLS OP SCIENCE AND ART. 291 

tioners in industrial and fine arts study the sciences whicli are related 
to their art. Thus miners, like Werner and Oppein, became distin- 
guished mineralogists; apothecaries, like Klaproth, Rose, Gehlen, 
eminent chemists ; gardeners, botanists ; dyers, workers in metal, &c., 
apply themselves to natural science, and mechanicians and machinists 
to the mathematics. Albrecht Durer and Leonardo da Vinci, after 
bringing perspective to a high degree of perfection in their art, applied 
themselves to the consideration of its principles, and wrote on the 
subject. 

Thus practitioners of arts raise themselves from mere instinctive 
readiness to a reflective acquaintance with the laws of that which they 
practice. They labor powerfully and perseveringly for the progress 
of science, and from the knowledge of this, again, they derive rules 
and methods for the perfection of their art. 

VI. SKILL IN ART AND SKILL IN SPKECH. 

While men of science need an acquaintance with art, in order to 
make themselves understood by artists and artizans through the 
medium of actual work, it should be the endeavor of the latter to 
obtain skill in oral and written language, in order 'to be able to de- 
scribe their work, and to discuss it intelligently with men of science. 
A scienti6c man who can talk passably, can discuss even work which 
he neither undei-stands nor can do ; while on the other hand, the 
working man who is destitute of all culture in language, can not 
speak clearly even about what he both understands and can do.* 

Vir. DIFFICULTIES. 

The idea that operatives and working people should be trained in 
free art and in scientific knowledge, and that they should be made 
able to give competent oral or written accounts of their labor, seems 
in modern times to have occasioned the establishment of industrial 
schools. 

This idea, if misunderstood, however, may occasion the most dan- 
gerous errors. For the sake of preventing these, I observe : — 

1. Only an operative who is thorough and skillful in understanding 
and practicing the substantial portions of his art, should undertake 
to proceed in joining beauty with it No one is grateful for a hand- 
somely formed stove which will not heat; for an elegant country 
house which is inconvenient and soon falls to pieces ; for handsome 

* With the discovery of printinf, gradually arose the distinction between the reading and 
non-reading classes ; especially as the Reformation made the Bible, hymn-book and catechism, 
the books of the people. Would not this course of events cause the people gradually to lose 
their creative instinct for language, and at the same time develop corrector and. clearer modes- 
of expression 3 



29 w SCHOOLS OF SCIENCE AND ART. 

taDles or bureaus which warp and crack. First comes the useful, 
then the beautiful.* 

2. Only the operative who has acquired complete skill in his em- 
ployment, should think of scientific development, God preserve us 
from any exclusively scientific instruction for journeymen. They 
should first execute well, and then reflect upon it. Their executive 
labor should be done unconsciously, as instinctively as bees work, in 
forming their mathematically regular cells with the utmost certainty. 
One who is entirely sure of his skill, may then only occupy himself 
in thinking upon what he does. To speculate before that time, is to 
incur such a risk as that of the somnambulist who breaks his neck if 
awakened while walking on a roof. He falls into a miserable condi- 
tion of half-knowledge and half-capacity.f 

3. The power of oral or written representation, like the study of the 
scientific side of an art, should be sought for only after complete skill 
has been attained. Only the real master, who feels his actions en- 
tirely free in the practice of his art, can speak or write to any purpose 
UDon it : — 

"Verbaqv£ jyrovisam rem non invita sequentury 

VIII. SEPARATION AND UNION. 

I hope not to be misunderstood, as if I recommended an intermix- 
ture of entirely distinct occupations and means of education. Very 
far from it. Every man has, generally speaking, faculties adapted for 
every human purpose; but in a higher grade for some purposes, and 
in a lower for others. On this principle is founded the saying, 
^■'■Nihil humanum a me alienum puto^ That for which each man 
has the best capacity, what he can most thoroughly master, is his 
vocation. In this he will take his civic place as a master ; it is really 
his possessions, and even his superfluity, from which he imparts to 
others, that he may in turn receive from theirs. 

It is an error to aim at an averaged, uniform, universal culture, 
with no reference to any one prominent vocation. Artizans and 

•*" Wouldst thou seem graceful withoutcertainty of movement "J In vain. Grace is a result 
of perfected power." — Goethe. 

tThis observation (No. 2) is true, I imagine, of all instruction. Instinctive knowledge must 
precedeaU'Conscious acquired knowledge ; simple speaking, a knowledge of language ; sing- 
ing and instrumental execution, thorough bass ; drawing, perspective ; seeing and hearing, 
optics and acoustics ; skill in analysis, chemistry ; knowledge of mining, the science of it. 
Our present modes of instruction frequently reverse this order of nature, which is that indi- 
cated by the history of the general progress of mankind ; we would reach art through science ; 
practice through theory. Mere knowledge about a thing is expected to serve instead of nat- 
ural endowments improved by practice; and understanding without power or feeling, the 
possession of both. Thus we educate to a hypocritical pretense of both power and feeling ; 
mere actors ; to an empty, stupid imitation of real intelligent life. But the real highest aim 
of instruction should be,strictly iulelligeut artistic pow^r. 



SCHOOLS OF SCIENCE AND ART. 293 

working men can not easily fall into this error, because each of them 
is commonly trained up by one master to one definite occupation, 
which is to be his support ; but second-rate universally half-informed 
men are proportionally more frequent among the higher classes. 

It is, however, just as great an error, to devote one's self exclu- 
sively to one single occupation, neglecting all the other faculties 
which God has given us. Even if not a jurist, you should under- 
stand law enough to be able to sit as a justice of the peace ; if no 
preacher, you should at least be able to conduct divine service in your 
family ; if no landscape gardener, you should be competent to man- 
age your own garden ; if no physician, you should be able in case 
of need to bind up a wound, if no physician is at hand, as the good 
Samaritan did. 

What we require is, thorough preparation for one chosen vocation, 
without any unnatural self-limitation within it, or such an exclusive 
devotion as unjustly depresses all the other faculties, and understands 
nothing, and refuses to understand any thing, of the doings of our 
neighbor. 

This skill in our own vocation and understanding of that of others, 
.is the true means of all friendly and helpful intercourse among men; 
and enables us much more completely to "love our neighbor as 
ourselves." 

The tendency of the present day is not towards an arbitrary, con- 
fused intermingling of employments, but towards such a human. 
Christian understanding and union of all classes, as this. The sharp 
distinction between the jurists by profession, and laymen, has disap- 
peared by means of the local courts (Geschwornen gerichte)\ that 
between citizens and soldiers, through the militia, &c. The master 
is still a master, but not through any compulsory power of his guild, 
but through his own distinguished original powers, preeminently 
developed by conscientious industry. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

(Translated from the German of Karl von Rxiumer, for the American Journal of Education.] 



I. FAMILY LIFE. 

We have seen how important Luther considered the influence of 
home life ; and that he considered good family management the basis 
of a good government of the people and of their true happiness. 
"Family government,'' he says, "is the first thing; from which all 
other governments and authorities take their origin. If this root is 
not good, neither can the stem be good nor can good fruit follow. 
Kingdoms are composed of single families. Where father and 
mother govern ill, and let the children have their own way, there can 
neither city, market, village, country, principality, kingdom nor em- 
pire, be well and peacefully governed. For out of sons are made 
fathers of families, judges, burgomasters, princes, kings, emperors, 
preachers, schoolmasters, &c. ; and where these are ill trained, there 
the subjects become as their lord; the members as their head. 

"Therefore has God ordained it to be first, as most important, that 
the family should be well governed. For where the house is well 
and properly governed, all else is well provided for." 

These observations are, after Luther's fashion, extremely simple ; 
and refer us to family life as the source both of the happiness and 
misery of nations. Is our own father-land to receive a blessing or a 
curse from this source ? 

II. U6UAL MANAGEMENT OF FAMILY LIFE AND FEMALE EDUCATION. 

Pestalozzi has given us, in his '■^Leonard and Gertrude,^'' a very 
beautiful and attractive picture of life in a pious family, without 
losing sight of reality in exaggeration and romance, or setting up an 
impossible ideal. Upon comparing his representation, however, with 
ordinary family life, especially that of our so-called " educated classes," 
the latter does not commonly in the remotest degree correspond with 
Pestalozzi's ideal. I speak of " ordinary " family life, for I am far 
'rom referring to the frightfully disorderly situation of too many 
entirely immoral, corrupted and abandoned families. But how many 
families are considered quite irreproachable, which are governed by 



296 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

an entirely vulgar spirit, destitute of reverence for goodness and truth, 
of any aspiration after true culture, of love for the father-land, of 
earnest religious feeling ; utterly superficial, short-sighted and narrow- 
souled ! For such persons, the highest moral authority is that most 
useless and corrupting rule, the prevailing fashion ; which they unques- 
tioningly obey without examining it conscientiously or decidedly with- 
standing it if necessary. Their highest appeal is. What will people 
say '? and the broadest path always seems to them the most certain. 

There are many indications of the profoundly corrupting influence 
of such vulgar and low modes of thought, upon family life and upon 
instruction. I shall suggest a few instances. 

Suppose a father so debased in mind as not to feel any care for his 
country ; to be contented if he is enabled to go on peacefully and 
prosperously in his own daily labor or business, and in his 
wretched amusements ; must not the example of such a father 
both destroy every germ of patriotism, and quicken every germ of 
selfishness ? 

Nor can such a father maintain a truly and permanently Christian 
life within his family. He will forever be asking, " What will people 
say ?" He will be ashamed to ask a blessing at table, and will not 
even think of family prayers ; nor will he even consider whether 
either the one or the other is pleasing to God. But he will be as 
frightened at the idea that such devotions are exceedingly disagree- 
able to some of his friends and acquaintances, and that they will call 
him a pietist for practicing them, as if such fault-finding were the 
worst misfortune that could befall him. He is a Laodicean, neither 
cold nor hot; incapable equally of a hearty love and practice of what 
is good, or of hearty hatred of evil. This regard for consequences 
continually deceives him. 

In thus describing what is at present the condition of too many 
German families, I do not by any means lose sight of my subject, the 
education of girls. For there are many homes in which there is no 
such thing as family life ; no such thing as a close union, knit together 
by the sincere and earnest love of father, mother and children, and 
thus profoundly happy. On the other hand, a chilly ennui prevails 
at home, and to escape it they resort elsewhere to seek diversion and 
occupation. The father only enjoys himself when he passes every 
evening at the casino, or, as it is called, " in society," in card-playing ; 
the mother, and the elder children, attend feminine coffee or tea cir- 
cles, &c. ; and as for the younger children, they are given over to the 
tender mercies of the servants. 

"Nothing can put my heart at rest," says a mother in Jean Paul's 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 297 

^^Levana^''* who considers herself very affectionate, "except to take all 
possible pains to select for my dear little children a conscientious 
nurse-maid who will swear to treat them like their own moiher, and 
will pray heaven to punish her if she shall neglect her duty to the 
poor little things, or shall for a single minute trust them out of her 
sight or in strange hands. Great God, only to think of such a thing ! 
But ah, what do such persons know of the solicitudes of an affec- 
tionate mother's heart? And therefore I also am in the habit — 
which is a great encouragement to me — of having all my children 
come to see me twice a day, after breakfast and after dinner," 

How true to life is this ! We may see the nurse-maids with the 
poor neglected children every day on all the city promenades. How 
often do these servant-girls form improper acquaintances, which they 
follow up even in an abandoned manner, without any reference to the 
children. In the Berlin Zoological Garden, a lady was once begged 
of by a woman who had a child in her arms. On looking at the child, 
the lady was terrified to recognize it as her own. A wicked nurse- 
maid had been for sometime in the habit of renting the child for 
money to the beggar, who had misused it in order to excite the 
sympathies of the public. " Thus," as Fenelon had already com- 
plained, " are such little children surrendered to improper and some- 
times disreputable women, and that at a time of life when the deepest 
impressions are made !" And if such young children are given up 
in such a manner, how will they be afterwards educated ? 

Now, can the girls of such a family as has been — and truly — 
described, be educated piously and in a manner pleasing to God ? 
Must not such a result be impossible, since parents of degraded or 
perverted ways of thinking must necessarily direct the education of 
their daughters toward a degraded and perverted purpose? This 
purpose is nothing except to educate their girls in such a way that 
they will soon get married, no matter to whom, provided he only has 
a good income. 

Accordingly, how shall girls be educated so as to please men ? 
This question states the pedagogical problem of parents, especially 
of mothers.! 

If girls are devoted merely to become pleasing to men, every 
opportunity must first qf all be taken to extend their acquaint- 
ance. As soon as they are old enough, therefore, they must go into 
society, and especially must attend every ball. Even the most avari- 

*Vol. I., p 41. 

t Madame Necker says, (Vol. 1, p. 68,) "Those mothers who have no aim in educating 
their daughters except marrying them, and to this end are slavishly obedient to the demands 
of the public, devote their children, in our opinion, to an unavoidable mediocrity." 



298 EDUCATION OF GI^LS. 

cious motlier thinks it her duty to purchase a costly ball-dress for hef 
daughter. Dancing gives opportunities for making acquaintances on 
both sides ; and how often has a ball-night, and even a single waltz, 
given time enough to agree upon an unhappy marriage ? In Berlin 
there is even a term for such marriges ; they are called " ball-mar- 
riages." Their first enchantment scarcely outlives the honeymoon ; 
and many young couples might be separated again, under the Prus- 
sian law, on the ground of mutual " insuperable aversion," in a fort- 
night after their wedding. But the object of vulgar parents is attained, 
as has been observed, when their daughter has obtained a husband, 
no matter if she drags out the remainder of her life in the most com- 
fortless wretchedness. 

We shall find no occasion to wonder at the subjects and methods 
of female education, when we have ascertained its object ; for this 
object is pursued with the utmost consistency. " Since every thing is 
directed," says Madame Necker, Vol. L, p. 32, " to enabling the 
young woman to become the choice of a young man, all care is 
bestowed upon the cultivation of outward appearances, no matter how 
other things turn out. In this pursuit, the mother takes a passionate 
interest in her daughter's success, and all possible means are used to 
secure it.'' The girls must put themselves on exhibition ; must make 
a brilliant appearance in society. For this purpose, dancing is a bet- 
ter means than any thing else which can be taught. No art is more 
zealously pursued, or with such unheard-of self-sacrifice. During the 
winter series of balls, it is often remarked, they undermine their 
health, and are thus obliged to go to the baths in the summer, in 
order to re-establish their health for the next winter. Thus they 
alternate, until health is entirely gone. 

The next most important pursuit is singing and playing, which 
girls learn for exhibition in society. The piano is peculiarly adapted 
for this purpose ; for even persons destitute of all musical feeling or 
talent can be drilled to a wonderful degree of skill in piano-playing, 
especially upon the lately introduced " dumb pianos," without strings. 
They are tormented every day with hours of finger-exercises. Where 
it was formerly usual to play sonatas, &c., it is now the custom to 
play only finger-exercises, the teacher causing them to play, in 
specified places, pianissimo, piano, forte, fortissimo, and with various 
other degrees of strength, indicated by their appropriate words. 
They are taught, in particular to go at once from the softest piano to 
the loudest forte, because this produces the greatest " effect ;" and 
■what do they play for except " effect ?" " In such hands, the fine arts 
cease to be fine arts ; the idea of the effect to be produced upon others 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 299 

quite drives out any attention to the effect to be produced on the 
mind of the player."* 

Piano players thus trained can not fail to gain the approval of most 
persons, even of those quite without musical capacity, as most per- 
sons are ; for even such can judge by the eye of the player's skill of 
hand : it is of no consequence that the player plays utterly without 
feeling or pleasure, and has tormented herself with laboring in the 
sweat of her face to acquire her dexterity ; the attainment is suiB- 
cient, and all else is of subordinate importance. " The principal 
thing is no longer to love and to admire ; it is to be admired. The 
young woman does not trouble herself about what she herself feels, 
but about what feelings she awakes in others."f Good manners at 
present forbid the hearers from permitting it to be seen how much 
the performance wearies them. They are expected to praise every 
thing, and so are even those who have talked incessantly during the 
playing. If such musical exhibitions were made in Madame de 
Genlis' " Palace of Truth," the expressions of the real feelings and 
thoughts of the hearers would be well worth listening to. 

The pieces of music which pianists prefer are simply such as are 
the fashion, even if the worst possible ; provided only that they are 
composed for " effect," and will thus serve the desired end. 

I have scarcely patience to speak of the mode of singing now usual 
in society. How disgusting is it to one accustomed to a correct and 
simple method of singing secular and sacred music, when he hears 
for the first time this unnatural, vulgar, affected singing, with its 
jumping from a scarcely audible piano to a shrieking ear-piercing 
fortissimo; its insufferable long-winded howling instead of a pure 
and precise tone ! He feels himself suddenly fallen from the cheerful 
region of a beautiful fine art, amongst musical caricatures. If the 
singing were visible, as in Tieck's Garden of Poesy, he would think 
himself another St. Anthony, all beset with swarms of horrible 
phantoms. 

Parents take especial interest in the study of French by their chil- 
dren. "What is the object of this study ? To enable a girl to read 
the masterpieces of French literature, or to extend their sphere of 
mental vision from the province of one language to another foreign 
one, and thus to acquaint them with other words, idioms and syntax ? 
Are they to institute a comparison between French and German? 

If we should put such questions as these to ordinary parents, they 
would not understand them at all. Our daughters learn French, they 
would say, for a reason that all the world knows. It is to be a means 

* Madame Necker, Vol. I., p. 73. t Madame Necker, Vol. I., 72 ; and comp. II., p. 164. 



300 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

of showing themselves cultivated, when they are in cultivated society; 
especially in the higher circles where French is spoken. 

The importance of the objects aimed at in the study of French, 
best appears from the mode in which instruction is given in it. Yet 
it is mfsusing the term " instruction " to apply it here, for this is not 
instruction, but mere drilling, such as is used to teach starlings and 
parrots to speak : and this is sought, not only by wealthy parents, 
but even bj' those of small means, who often pay high rates to mas- 
ters, or more frequently, mistresses, French governesses especially, for 
the sake of this drill. And extraordinary indeed are the creatures 
who are often sent from Paris to Germany as governesses, and to 
whom foolish parents confide the care of their children. Mothers 
who do not understand French, must listen to the chattering of these 
governesses with their children, without the means of knowing 
whether they are not talking the most harmful things to them ; and 
even if there were no danger to the morals of the children, still this 
talk is the most empty stuff; nonsensical conversational phrases, 
usually such as are current among the lower ranks in France. But 
governesses of this class are not capable of any thing beyond this un- 
intelligent drill ; they know nothing of instruction ; having usually 
never studied at all, and understanding French only because they are 
French women. I have known these women, to have no ideas what- 
ever of the French declensions and conjugations, and unable, if they 
read, for instance, pourriez-vous, to find the meaning of pourriez in 
the dictionary. But aside from this, their whole stock of knowledge 
is so entirely made up of the most ordinary conversational phrases, 
that they were unable to translate the easiest French book, unless it 
consisted altogether of such phrases. 

What has been said is sufficient to show that in this sort of study- 
ing French, nothing is thought of except mere drilling : not culture 
at all, at least in any proper sense ; for nothing is more different from 
it than such French talking. " Shall I learn to speak French," says 
Goethe, "a foreign language, in which I must appear silly, do what I 
will, because I can only express common and coarse shades of mean- 
ing ? For what distinguishes the blockhead from the man of sense, 
except that the latter comprehends quickly, clearly and accurately, 
and expresses forcibly the delicate shades of peculiarity in what is 
around him, while the former, just as every one must do in a foreign 
language, must get along by the aid of stereotyped memorized phrases ?'' 

Thus Goethe, the representative of German culture, comes into the 
most diametrical opposition to the so-called " educated classes," who 
think that ability to speak French constitutes culture. He tells them 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 3Qj 

plainly that they must always appear foolish in their French conversa- 
tion, and have to get along with stereotyped and memorized phrases. 
But no such mere babble in French as that, can be admitted to be 
even a bad substitute for real culture. 

And again ; it is necessary in order to avoid a waste of labor, that 
girls should practice talking French from a very early age, if they are 
to talk it with even a moderate degree of correctness. The wretched 
influence of this practice on the native language will be understood 
by any one who comprehends how great a gift of God is that of the 
mother-tongue, and how wonderfully, by means of it, he is able to 
express and communicate his deepest thoughts and feelings. But this 
living speech, welling forth from the inmost being, is exactly the 
opposite of the entirely mechanical French which children learn, and 
which includes nothing whatever either of thought or feeling. And 
if they obtain by practice some facility in French conversational 
flourishes, they forthwith transfer their lifeless mannerism to their 
own language, and talk German without feeling or thought. Girls, 
too, who are sent to female schools, frequently fall into the hands of 
such French women as have already been described. Some parents, 
who think no attainment valuable in comparison with facility in 
speaking French, send their daughters to French or Swiss schools, 
where they can hear and speak nothing but French. In such a 
foreign atmosphere, they too often become quite estranged from their 
native home and country. 

This unnatural over-valuation of the French has, unfortunately, 
nothing whatever in the nature of an antidote, in the methods em- 
ployed in teaching German. This observation applies, however, not 
to the rudiments of instruction in reading and writing, but to the 
more advanced course in German, instruction in which is almost as 
perverted as that in French, though in quite an opposite manner. 
While girls are trained to practice French modes of speech without 
feeling or intelligence, the teacher in German, on the other hand, re- 
quires them to understand fully every thing that they read ; nay, they 
must do more than understand it ; they must be conscious of their 
own understanding of it. To this end, all that they read is explained 
to them at great length, and with great fullness ; they are made to 
write out whatever they have felt and thought while reading; and to 
torment themselves most pitifully, to waken in themselves some feel- 
ings or thoughts which they may write down. 

Such instruction is fit enough to train blue-stockings ; it is nothing 
except a school of the most heartless and false hypocrisy. The mode 
of training used to make them read " with expression," is one quite 



302 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

similar to that used to teach to play the pianc) " with expression.'' As 
in the latter case, so in reading, the forte and piano tones are in part 
brought out by numberless oral rules, and partly by showing how the 
various grades of expression are to be secured by using more or less 
force in the touch or voice. Thus, in a poem of Gellert's, I find 
various sizes of type used, as follows : — 

"How GREAT is the almighty goodness I 

Is there one man who does not feel it — 

Who with hardened susceptibilities 

Smothers the gratitude which he ought to feel? 

NO ! To appreciate God's love 

Shall ever be my supreme duty. 

The Lord has never forgotten me ; 

And neither shall my heart forget himP^* 

Wooden teachers think that to read with stress of voice is to read 
•with expression. It is most repulsive to a natural-minded person to 
hear girls declaim with such pretentious affectation, especially when, 
as is often the case, they blunder and throw the accent into the wrong 
place, thus betraying the whole mindlessness of their art. 

BufFon's maxim is often repeated, that "Style is the Man;" but 
our ordinary method of cultivating the style can certainly not be 
recognized as a true method of mental culture. How absurdly 
selected are the themes given to girls for composition ! They are, 
for instance, set to write letters describing the death of a father or 
brother, or the birth of a sister, and by this means to put themselves 
into the appropriate state of mindlf Or they are put to write 
essays upon the usefulness of the sciences, the excellence of virtue, 
&c., (fee. Nothing can be more tiresotne than to read the letters 
written by girls who have been taught in this way ; first painfully 
thought out, and then copied oflf clean. Such letters contain nothing 
at all, except a quantity of formal phrases, in which they excuse 
themselves to their correspondent with hypocritical modesty, as not 
possessing that faculty for writing letters which the other has ; that 
they have no time to acquire it, and the like ; and the whole letter 
is filled with such matter. If after reading it all, we inquire. What 
in brief is the substance of that ? there is no answer. How different 
is the case, when an unaffected girl who has escaped such a pervert- 
ing training, narrates without any painful forethought to her friend, 
"whom she has seen, what journeys she has made, what books she 
has read, and whatever other things have happened. It is a pleasure 

* Rhenish (Jazetle {Rheinische Blatter), 1835, (January to June), p. 354. 

t " Waste none of your time in putting yourself intestates ol'mind," says Claudius. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 303 

to read such letters, often characterized by poetical feeling and 
native humor, and free from the encumbering constraint of school 
discipline. 

But this does not by any means complete the list of the con- 
stituent parts of the school instruction of our girls. Read, for in- 
stance, the first invitation programme that comes to hand, of a girl's 
school examination : what an excessive number of studies is there ! 
Many of them, rightly taught, would be exceedingly beneficial ; and 
if ill-taught, exceedingly harmful. Such for instance, is natural his- 
tory. "Who does not take pleasure in seeing a girl who loves flowers, 
carefully watering them every day, placing them in the sun, and 
taking care of them with as much love and skill as the most indus- 
trious and intelligent gardener ! But some children nine or ten years 
old, instead of amusing themselves in a childlike manner with the 
colors and smell of a flower, are forced by the teacher to pull them 
apart and determine the correct names of all the parts ; as root, stem, 
leaf-sheath, leaf, upper surface, under surface, circumference, base, 
apices, veins, (fee, (fee, or the teacher spins out a lecture on the 
ordinary violet which would occupy eight or ten printed pages. Just 
as if God had let the flowers grow, only so that teachers might make 
use of them for their idle foolish pedagogical experiments. Even 
what is most alive and beautiful, fades and dies if touched by the hand 
of a foolish pedant. 

This instruction of girls in so many departments, usually with a 
pedantic discursiveness and pretense of thoroughness, leaves but very 
little time, as may easily be imagined, for active occupation in house- 
keeping. I have known girls who labored at their school lessons, 
even into the night. Young housekeepers find themselves in no very 
pleasant situation, when they find that the time which they have thus 
spent leaves them in entire ignorance of what they need to know and 
do in their new vocation. Their kitchen, for instance, must be entirely 
under the control of their cook, no matter how ignorant she is ; and 
the young mistress, instead of being able to instruct her servant, is 
on the contrary forced to take the utmost pains to learn her art from 
her, and not to make any blunders herself. 

It has been attempted to remedy this diflSculty by placing girls for 
a time with a cook or boarding-house keeper. But besides that such 
an arrangement brings a young girl into a situation not the most 
desirable, she does not in such a place learn the sort of cooking that 
she will need to practice at her own house, and much that she does 
learn will bo usless there. 

I have already alluded to the manner in which the daughters of 



304 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

families of the class which I have been describing, use their leisure 
time. Parties, balls, the theater, occupy much of it ; and they en- 
deavor to kill time at home, by reading novels. It would be difficult 
to decide whether the parties, the balls, the theater, or the romances, 
exert the worst influence on a girl. I have already mentioned balls. 
Theatrical exhibitions are attended without any discrimination by 
parents between what is good and bad in morals or artistic value. 
One of the most corrupting of Kotzebue's plays, in which all the five 
acts consist of one sustained double entendre, is now the favorite per- 
formance at Breslau, and is attended by young and old. An improv- 
ing school indeed is afforded for girls, by an equivocal play, performed 
by actors of equivocal character, and with professional skill ; and 
where vices are made to appear desirable and virtue wearisome and 
stupid! 

But perhaps the most destructive habit of all is the indiscriminate 
reading of all romances that girls can find. A morbid voracity pos- 
seses them ; they read and read, without becoming at all satisfied or 
nourished by what they devour. It operates, on the contrary, as a 
poison. If a standard work happens to stray amongst the trash of 
their circulating library, they pay no attention to it. One of these 
romance readers, when asked if she had read Goethe's '■'■ Iphigenia^ 
replied " I believe so !" 

This sort of reading destroys the most agreeable and active mental 
faculties of a girl's mind, and substitutes a fixed character of frivolity 
which makes them entirely unfit to fulfill their household duties with 
modesty and efficiency, and to lead a quiet and godly life. Serious 
and holy thoughts find no place in the minds of such perverted young 
women ; for how could such thoughts dwell in the same mind with 
frivolous love stories and erroneous, vulgar and fantastic ideals of 
love? 

But it is time to turn away from this too common, godless and 
hopeless method of educating girls, with all its accompanying errors, 
and to inquire after the right method. 

III. MARRIAGE. DUTIES OF PARENTS AS TO EDUCATING THEIR CHILDREN. 

Luther has referred us to the family, as the source of the happiness 
or misery of nations ; let us proceed to examine what are the sources 
of the happiness or misery of families. 

These states are inaugurated through marriage ; and they have as 
many sources therefore, as there are different marriages. While a 
consecrated love has caused the marriage, if it was, to use a common 
expression made in heaven, there are others an infinite distance below 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 395 

these, which have been brought about by the most impure lust or the 
coldest and most calculating avarice. 

A consecrated beginning promises a holy and blessed married life, 
in truth and love, even to old age ; but if the source of the marriage 
was impure, the subsequent married life will commonly be also im- 
pure and unblessed. We have already seen what degraded views are 
only too common, on the subject of marriage, even amongst those of 
the higher ranks ; and this may indicate the corruption that prevails 
in such marriages. 

Let us now consider what are the duties of the father and mother, 
whose marriage is such as God approves, in relation to the education 
of their children. 

I have already referred to the beautiful delineation of a sanctified 
family life which is presented in Pestalozzi's " Leonard and Gertrude.^'' 
We necessarily love and respect Gertrude, when we see her so full of 
faithful love to her husband, her children, the neglected poor of the 
parish, and at the same time so intelligent and active in her compre- 
hensive benevolence. 

I find but one fault found, even by women, who well understand 
what is agreeable to them. Leonard, they say, is a good -hearted 
man, and industrious at his work ; but weak, and often wanting in 
tact, and easily led astray. Such a person is not fit to be a father of 
a family ; a wife could find no support from hirn ; she would on the 
contrary have to take him under her protection and guidance, and 
make up for his deficiencies. But they exclaim, if he were only as a 
father what Gertrude is as a mother, especially with reference to the 
education of the children ! 

These very correct observations lead us very naturally to the con- 
sideration of the respective duties of father and mother in teaching 
their daughters. 

Many pei-sons believe that this department of education belongs to 
the mother alone ; that the father should scarcely have any thing to 
do with it. This may appear correct, but it is appearance only. The 
man who marries with a sense of the sacredness of the step, must 
to some extent know what he is doing ; must have some sort of idea 
and conception of marriage. He will reflect upon the duties which 
he assumes to his wife and to his children — in case he should have 
children. Love and conscientiousness will oblige him to consider the 
subject of children's education ; its objects, and the road toward them. 
With every year and with every child who is sent him by God, his 
pedagogical problem becomes clearer to him, and his skill in solving 
it increases. An intelligent and modest wife will find herself sup-- 
20 



306 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

ported by such a man, and will willingly learn from him ; and on the 
other hand an intelligent husband, who knows his abilities and duties, 
can with confidence entrust to his wife all the details of the educa- 
tion of her daughters. For however great his good will, he will not 
be in circumstances to undertake the management of this detail. 
Such a labor would usually require more time than his duties as a 
citizen will permit ; and what is more, would require gifts which he 
has not, but with which women are richly endowed. 

But what is the proper duty of the father in educating his daugh- 
ters, is a question not answered in Pestalozzi's character of Leonard. 
He has made the wife conduct the whole of it, without advising ou 
the subject with her husband at all. In this department, in fact, she 
performs the double duty of both father and mother. 

At the same time it is not to be denied that the importance of the 
labors of the wife, even in the education of boys, can not be too highly 
estimated. The most skillful educators are agreed on this point. 

Thus Fenelon says, in his valuable book on the education of girls, 
" Are not the duties of wives the basis of all of life ? Is it not they 
who destroy or uphold the family ? They exert the most important 
influence upon the good or bad morals of almost all the world. An 
intelligent, industrious, profoundly religious wife, is the soul of the 
whole household ; she governs it in things both temporal and 
spiritual." 

Fenelon then proceeds to show more at length, how the wife's in- 
fluence may tend either to the salvation or the destruction of her 
husband and her children ; so that her labors for the good of society 
are scarcely less important than those of her husband. 

Luther says that pious families establish the happiness of nations ; 
and Fenelon and Pestalozzi add to this, that pious wives are the 
chief basis of the happiness of families. Even though they have 
no direct influence upon church and state, they still have an indirect 
one which is important, by reason of its influence upon the education 
not only of girls, but also of boys. 

Every one knows how great have been the obligations of eminent 
men, such as the Gracchi, St. Augustine, &c., to their mothers. And 
how many obscure and unknown labors of mothers, in the education 
of their sons, are known only to God ! Innumerable are the men 
who have all their lives blessed the memory of the dear mothers who 
brought them up to goodness from their youth, with unfailing 
faithfulness. 

And if the influence of mothers upon the education of boys is so 
.great, notwithstanding that fathers, teachers, fellow-pupils, and so 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. gQy 

many others, exert a coincident influence in this education, how much 
greater must it be upon that of girls, who are intrusted almost 
exclusively to their mother's care. 

The consideration of the importance of this influence has of late 
years led to the establishment of institutions expressly to train girls 
as teachers ; it has even been suggested that teachers' seminaries for 
girls should be established. In such institutions, the inspector and 
his wife and children are intended to form a normal family, in and by 
whose influence the pupils are to be trained; and in particular, 
especial care is taken to teach them, as much as is possible, in 
accurately fixed hours. 

A sensible man will feel at once the unnatural character of this 
plan. Girls belong to their own families ; family life is their school ; 
their own father is the normal father, their own mother the normal 
mother ; such is the ordinance of God. The older girls, in assisting 
their inothers in housekeeping, in teaching the younger children, &c., 
learn in the simplest and most natural way what they will subse- 
quently need to know, as housewives ; without being pedantically and 
coarsely instructed about their future duties as mothers, and being 
only made into governesses after all. For nothing but governesses 
can be formed by such a seminary as we have made mention of; stiff" 
governesses, who will bring their husbands no dowry except a system 
of education ; and who will believe that only they understand this 
subject, having studied it secundum artem, whereas the husband not 
having graduated at such a school, can know nothing of it, and has 
no business to say any thing about it. 

IV. REMEDIES FOR DEFECTS IN HOME LIFE AND FEMALE EDUCATION.— INTRODUC 

TION. 

Fenelon's work on " Female Education;' begins with these words :— 
" Nothing is so much neglected as the education of girls." At pres- 
ent, perhaps he would write, instead of " neglected," something like 
" bescribbled and perverted." So much we have already seen. But 
what is the remedy ? It is easy to find fault, but difficult to effect 
improvement, and doubly so when we scarcely know how or where 
to begin. Yet it will not suffice to fall into inactive despair. 

Let us above all things retain our belief that God has planted 
maternal love in the heart of every mother ; and that every mother, 
at least generally speaking, will gladly fulfill her duties to her chil- 
dren, if she knows what they are. But if they pursue the most mis- 
taken measures, as we have seen they do, if they even do this at a 
cost of self-sacrifice, it is usually for the reason that they think these 
mistaken measures are the right ones, and such as will promote the 



308 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

good of their daughters. If, for instance, a mother fancies that the 
greatest misfortune to her daughter would be to remain unmarried, 
she would resort even to the silliest means to prevent such a misfor- 
tune. But if they could be convinced that it is by no means always 
a misfortune to remain unmarried, or at any rate a much smaller one 
than that of an unhappy marriage, such as we have referred to — if 
they could be convinced that good men are not commonly to be found 
where they look for them, in balls and parties of pleasure — surely 
they would not remain in their wrong ways ; surely maternal love 
would then bring them back to the right path. 

But sensible mothers will reply : " We are no better off for this 
delineation of the common perversions of education, even though we 
are forced with sorrow to acknowledge its truth. What we need is, 
to know how to rescue ourselves from the current of evil customs, 
and how to educate our children in an intelligent and Christian 
manner." 

" Nor is it of any use to us to acquaint us with general principles of 
education. We may be convinced of their truth, but if we attempt 
to put them in practice, we shall quickly see how great a gulf there 
is between counsel and action. " To act according to our own reflec- 
tions brings us inconveniences," says Goethe ; but the case is worse 
than this. Inconveniences we were accustomed to ; these would be 
no obstacle to our good will. But abstract pedagogical rules are of 
no use whatever; no more than a couple of algebraical formulas 
would be, to enable us to teach our girls all the practical arithmetic 
of housekeeping." 

" What our children need is little details of training ; the smallest 
details ; we need advice upon points which men contemptuously term 
minutiae, and trifles. But things of great importance are hidden 
within these trifles, as in seeds, whose germ only develops in after 
years.'' 

From my own conviction of the truth of such claims as these, I 
shall in the sequel discuss as much of these details as I have been 
able to master from my own observation of the pedagogical labors of 
women within the circle of their own family. 

I have already devoted a chapter each to " Early Infancy " and 
" Religious Instruction."* Although in these chapters I have con- 
sidered details, yet it has been with too little reference to their manage- 
ment in daily life. I should therefore expose myself to the blame 

* " In addition to what 1 shall say in the following chapters, especially the last, on religioua 
and moral education and instruction, I would refer to these two chapters, and also to the 
Biibsequent section, headed ' Christianity in Education.' " See Barnard's ^•American Jour- 
naiof Education," Vol. Vll., 381^12. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 309 

of which I have been speaking, if I did not endeavor in the following 
pages to make up for such deficiencies. 

V. RELIGIOUS AND MORAL CULTURE. 

1. Before the preparation for confirmation. 

The parents are bound to the sacred duty of cultivating the seeds 
of the new birth. The mother should pray for the child, and should 
teach it to pray for itself as early as possible ; so that prayer shall 
become a second nature to it. Our ancient morning and evening 
hymns contain stanzas very proper to be used as prayers by children. 
Such a short prayer in verse should be taught the child by the mother 
as soon as it can speak ; and it should repeat it after her, with its 
hands folded, syllable by syllable. It should afterwards learn to pray 
without having the words repeated to it ; still with folded hands. 

The mother should relate to the child Bible stories, particularly 
about the child Christ. After the third year, Luther's smaller cate- 
chism may be taught it b}' heart, but only in very small portions and 
without the explanations, which Luther himself directs to be taught 
to children of from seven to ten. The child may during this period 
also learn short verses of the Bible, and stanzas from hymns, particu- 
larly Christmas hymns. The children will often come to their mother 
at times when she can hear them repeat their texts and verses ; and 
she can often find other occasions to remind them of what they have 
learned, and to make brief and forcible applications ; which must not 
however be extended into long sermons. A good picture Bible will 
strikingly illustrate these maternal instructions ; and an older sister 
will find much pleasure in showing the pictures to the younger ones, 
and telling them the appropriate stories. 

The shorter and more simple the prayer which the mother hears 
her child repeat at evening and morning, the greater will be its 
tendency to cause the child to add petitions relating to its own little 
aflfairs. It will at night thank God for all His favors given during the 
day, will pray for parents, brothers and sisters, and if it has done 
any thing wrong, will sincerely ask God's forgiveness. 

However insignificant such little beginnings of Christian instruction 
may seem, they still contain the living germs of the subsequent Chris- 
tian life. They are the seeds of profound love and undoubting con- 
fidence toward God, of humble confession of sin and hearty gratitude 
to him who died that we might obtain forgiveness ; seeds of love 
toward all mankind. Thus, Christianity will become a second nature 
to the child, so firmly rooted within its nature that it can never be 
uprooted, even by the most violent tempest. 



310 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

It is evident of course that Christian education can exist only in 
Christian families ; but even Christian parents must exercise great 
watchfulness to see that their lives harmonize with their teachings to 
their children. Otherwise the little ones will be altogether perplexed 
and doubtful. Even earnest Christians easily fall into many errors, 
such especially as tend toward a false pietism. Such errors are, too 
frequent and verbose admonitions to the children ; too long devotional 
exercises ; obliging them to express pious feelings ; and continual, 
wearisome, pietistic sermonizing. I might add, the too early carrying 
the children to church. Ordinary sermons are too long and too hard 
of understanding for children, which indeed is a reason why a special 
divine service, shorter and adapted to children's minds, is needed. 
But such a service will be found very liable to degenerate into an in- 
sipid, affectedly childish, and entirely useless pietistic style of sermon- 
izing. Various errors are practiced in the mode of conducting relig- 
ious exercises. They weary by their length, and still more by their 
frequent abstract dogmatizing. Teachers frequently give out to 
female pupils themes, for composition, on religious subjects, far beyond 
their powers, and leading them into a class of discussions where the}'' 
are not at home, and ought not to be. At a period like the present, 
when so many of the clergy believe so profoundly in the reflective 
theology, in the so-called "Christian consciousness,'' at such a time as 
this, the poor school-girls fere but ill. What they need is, to grow 
up in Christian simplicity, in an undoubting, deep-rooted, common- 
sense faith ; and to remain all their lives children, in the sense in 
which Christ requires it, of such as are to constitute the kingdom of 
heaven. Dogmatical discussions, which they are usually unable to fol- 
low, only confuse them, and render them liable to errors in doctrine. 

While instruction of this sort strains and over-exerts the under- 
standing very foolishly, there is an over-exertion of a still more harm- 
ful but opposite kind. I refer to the mode pursued by some senti- 
mental religious teachers ; who, instead of earnestly and seriously 
pointing out to their pupils the way of salvation, devote all their at- 
tention to the purpose of influencing the feelings of the girls, for 
merely the moment. For the moment, I say, because this sort of 
overstrained feeling is usually followed by a reaction into entire indif- 
ference. Too often, also, the teacher, in his joy at having produced 
the desired state of feeling, adds a further complimentary notice of 
the pupil, for her possession of feelings so susceptible, pure, &c. The 
excitement of the girl's feelings soon passes away ; but not so the un- 
blessed vanity which the poor child thus contracts from her instruc- 
tion in reliofion. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 3II 

Girls educated at home in the Bible, the smaller catechism, and 
the old religious hymns, to a knowledge of the elements of Chris- 
tianity, are thus properly prepared for the instructions which precede 
confirmation. 

2. Fear of death. 

One blessing of early Christian instruction is, that it leaves no 
room in children's hearts for the fear of death. This good result is, 
however, sometimes hindered by foolish parents, who speak of death 
in the hearing of their children as a terrible thing, of which every 
one must be afraid ; or who say on one occasion and another, "Don't 
do so ; it will kill you." 

If children are taught, even when those die who are most beloved, 
that the dead are with God, and happy ; and are taught the texts of 
the Bible on this subject, and the beautiful encouraging verses of our 
ancient hymns, then all the tears which they would shed would be 
only for the absence of the beloved dead. They would weep no 
doubt, being only feeble children. But if they should not, it should 
not be considered a mark of hard-heartedness ; and still less should 
they be blamed as for indifference ; for such treatment will be very 
likely to make them hypocritical. 

Children who have from early youth been taught from the Holy 
Scriptures that through death we pass to heaven, and to the Saviour, 
will by means of their encouraging and profound faith be found most 
efficient comforters to their parents, if afflicted by the death of those 
they love. 

3. Awakening of envy and covetousness in children. 

I have already referred to Hufeland's book, " Good Counsel to 
Mothers on the Physical Management of Infants ;'"'* a book which 
every mother should become familiar with ; which Jean Paul even 
fcays she should learn by heart, before the birth of her first child. 
Ilufeland says, "Few persons will ever believe that it can be of any 
importance to secure for children, in the very earliest portion of their 
lives, the enjoyment of open air, and various other things herein pre- 
scribed ; and yet this is exactly the time in which the foundation of 
sound bodily health for the child must necessarily be laid." Precisely 
as important and fundamental as physical management in this early 
period of life, is for the body, is its moral training for the soul. A 
child often receives impressions which last its whole lifetime, before 
we have any idea that it can receive any impressions at all. " If the 
disfigurements of the soul," remarks Jean Paul, "which wrong 
management during the first years of life entails upon children, were 

♦ GutCT Rath an Mutter iiber diephysiache Behandlung Kleiner Kinder." 



312 EDUCATION OF GIRLS 

as A'isible as broken bones, deformed limbs, and otber corporeal defecta 
what a tenible sight would the rising generation present !" 
I will instance a few cases of such wrong management: — 
We often hear it said to httle children, "Eat quickly, or else your 
sister will get it;" or, "If you don't eat it right up, I will." If a 
child has a new garment or toy, it is told, " This is yours all alone ; 
your little brother can't have it. See ; the other children have noth- 
ing so pretty ; nobody but you." I have often observed mothers 
look on quite indifferently at such things, and even do the like them- 
selves; a most painful sight. Such things implant and cultivate ill- 
will and vanity in children, before they are old enough to feel the 
pleasure of giving or of sympathy. It would be better to let other 
children be about when a child is eating, even when it is very young ; 
and to let it give them now and then a mouthful. They will be 
pleased, and will show it. Or if there is no other child to be present 
the person who feeds it might perhaps take a spoonful of the food, 
and commend it, as received from the child. Such methods would 
early accustom it to have some regard for others, and not for itself 
alone. If a child receives a gift of flowers, or any playthings that 
can be divided without being spoiled, it should early be accvistomed 
to give away some part of them. Things not divisible, it should be 
taught to use alternately with other children. Almost every child, 
thus taught, will even desire to impart of its possessions to others. 

It is exceedingly dangerous to excite any sort of rivalry in children ; 
although it is frequently done. I have seen not merely ignorant 
nurses, but mothers and fathers too, caress the children of others until 
their own children became angry and cried. The parents would then 
say, " See how that child loves me !" 

4. Love of brothers and sisters. 

This seems a perfectly natural and inborn disposition ; and yet we 
find many families whose children never agree, but are constantly 
quarreling with each other. 

I am not one of those who with Rousseau would charge all the 
faults and sins of children upon their parents and teachers ; although 
incompatibility of dispositions in parents often brings much harm 
upon the children. 

Many if not the most of children's quarrels arise from questions of 
meum and tmim. We often hear such dialogues as " It is mine !" 
" No, it is mine." "She has got my doll !" &c. The egoistic tenden- 
cies of property result in most harmful envy, quarreling, reviling and 
blows. Parents or adults in charge must be to blame, in part at 
least, when the difficulty becomes so serious as this. We have al- 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 31 3 

ready seen that they sometimes themselves stir up envy and covet- 
ousness in their children. 

A second cause which interferes with children's aftection for one 
another, is one which is eminently the fault of the parents ; namely, the 
preference of some one child by the latter, and the consequent worse 
treatment and stricter discipline of the rest. Such conduct excites in 
the children thus unfairly treated, a profound dislike and envy and 
grudge against that one who is preferred and favored. It is frequently 
those who may happen to be less favored with mental or bodily ex- 
cellencies, who are thus ill-treated by their parents, whereas these are 
precisely the ones who need a double share of faithfulness. Children 
of more attractive exterior are, on the other hand, often most foolishly 
doted on. This kind of conduct has a most evil influence not only 
in the children who are favored, but on the neglected ones also. 

It will not be denied that fraternal love is an innate quality ; al- 
though it is not so powerful an affection as that between children and 
parents. Children also, however, unfortunately bring selfishness into 
the world with them. The problem of education — for mothers es- 
pecially — is, as much and as early as possible, to extirpate the evil 
tendency towards disagreement ; and to cherish and develop the 
germs of fraternal affection. We take great pains to root the weeds 
out of our flower-beds, before they grow stiong enough to injure the 
useful plants. In like manner, should mothers seek to promote love 
and unity, and to destroy covetousness and envy among their chil- 
dren, and so umch the more anxiously, because in this case the plant- 
ing and the destroying become difficult much more rapidly as time 
advances. 

I shall venture here to call attention to some common failings. 

The first child is, until the second is born, the chief object of its 
mother's cares. If now a second child appears, and, as is natural, re- 
ceives just as solicitous care, it will easily happen that the fii-st child 
will seem to itself to be neglected. How can this be prevented ? A 
child must, from the first day of its birth, be the principal object of 
its mother's care. She must consider of importance even the smallest 
details which relate to it ; and whatever she can not herself do for it, 
she must carefully see done under her own eyes. But it is exceed- 
ingly desirable that the child should not think itself of importance, 
any more than is absolutely necessary. But however quietly and 
unobtrusively the necessary care is taken of a child — being at the 
same time punctual and thorough — and notwithstanding that the 
little one is as early as possible left part of the time to itself, while 
lying in the cradle or on the floor, and notwithstanding that the 



314 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

child's necessities are made as few and attended to with as little 
flourish as possible, still it will be very liable to miss something of 
the usual attentions when a new-comer must also be attended to. 

The birth of a brother or sister should be made an occasion of 
festivity ; and they should frequently be permitted the pleasure of 
seeing the little one. Nor should the good old custom be omitted, 
of putting a little case of gilt paper in the cradle of the new-comer, 
with all sorts of little presents for all the children, who should be 
permitted to find it there. And the ceremony of baptism should be 
made one of special enjoyment ; so that they may retain a delightful 
impression of this holy occasion. 

If it could be so contrived that the elder children should not feel 
themselves neglected nor put aside on behalf of the new-comer, they 
would be certain to greet the increase of the family with unmixed 
pleasure, and heartily to love this additional brother or sister. 

Another error which should be avoided is, to reprove too harshly 
such little oversights of the elder children as too rough handling of 
the younger, &c., as if they had intended to inflict pain. We often 
hear nursery-maids saying, for instance, " Naughty child, you have 
hurt your little sister ;" when perhaps the poor child, out of nothing 
except pure love for the baby, squeezed it a little too hard, or threw 
some toy into its cradle, with the idea of amusing it. Such actions 
should be prevented, no doubt; but should not be treated as if they 
were intentional ill-conduct. Children should be told, from the be- 
ginning, "You must be very tender with your little brother or sister; 
and you must not cry nor make a noise in the room where your 
mother is taking care of it." If they cry, they should at once be 
taken out ; and should be made to look upon it as a penalty to be taken 
away from the cradle, but as a reward, to be allowed to stay there. 

It is very bad, for a nurse-maid in charge of an older child, to say 
to it, " Never mind, you shall be my darling ; you are better than 
the baby." Although such expressions may be used from affection, 
and with the best intentions, they should not be allowed ; for they 
set the children in a sort of opposition of interests, which every 
possible means should be used to prevent from coming into their 
minds at all. 

When children have grown old enough to play with each other, if 
they should quarrel, it will not be best to punish one of them on be- 
half of t!ie other, but to endeavor with few words to re-establish a 
good understanding ; scarcely to observe at all which was to blame ; 
but to direct the attention of both to the evils of quarreling. For it 
is very easy, if an investigation is entered into, to do injustice to ono 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 3 15 

of the parties, by failing to take notice of some little occasion of 
discord. 

By thus never punishing one child on account of the other, it will 
come about that any penalties inflicted on one will grieve the other; 
that both their joys and sorrows will be common to both. 

Many other similar details might be added, each perhaps insignifi- 
cant in itself, but all together tending powerfully toward the impor- 
tant result of maintaining peace and unity among children. 

I have seen children of from three to six years of age, old enough, 
that is, to begin to learn texts from the Bible, very deeply struck 
with that passage from the hundred and thirty-third psalm, " Behold 
how good and how pleasant it- is for brethren to dwell together in 
unity I * * * for there the Lord commanded the blessing, even 
life for evermore." And a mere reference to these words of holy 
writ, without any extended admonitions, would frequently make them 
ashamed of a disagreement. 

Boys should learn texts and hymns, along with their sisters, from 
their mother, and should be kept in the nursery, until they reach the 
school age. During all this time, all the mother's efforts to preserve 
unity amongst them should be exerted equally toward both. If she 
shall be atfectionate, firm and intelligent enough to succeed in this, 
a charmingly affectionate relation will continue to exist among 
them afterwards. The girls will feel a careful love toward their 
brothers, and the latter will soon feel themselves the protectors of 
the former. 

These efforts of the mother should be under the influence of the 
father ; which ought to be the soul and the impulse of all her labors 
for her children. And even if he is not in a situation himself to take 
charge of all the details, he should control the spirit of them all. 

5. Timidity. Antipathy. 

Parents should be extremely careful not to have thuir children 
frightened. A fright, even in jest, perhaps by means of some sud- 
den appearance in the dark, would very probably not only implant a 
timidity which would last for years, and could only be got rid of 
with great pains, but might also bring on permanent nervous 
disorders. 

Children should never be threatened with wild beasts, nor told, as 
they frequently are, " If you do so, the dog will come and bite you," 
&c. Nor should they be threatened with the chimney-sweep, whose 
appearance is of itself sufficiently frightful to little children. They 
should rather be told, " He is a good man, but can not wash himself 
except on Sundays. Then he is as white as anybody." I have seen 



316 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

a child so well cured in that way of his apprehensions, as to shake 
hands with the sweep in the friendliest manner. 

The fear so common among girls, of spiders, caterpillars, mice, frogs, 
&c., can very soon be cured by judicious care, without at all inter- 
fering with feminine delicacy.* There is a mistaken notion, often 
found even among servants, that to be frightened, to cry out, and to 
«(how great horror at any thing repulsive, indicates great tenderness 
and delicacy of feeling; and that such sickly nervousness is very 
elegant. Educated people should be the first to overcome such 
weaknesses. j- 

If any one should be inclined to consider this horror at every thing 
of a disagreeable appearance, as an allowable trifle, he should reflect 
that it is closely connected with something of much more importance. 
Girls who declare that they can not see a spider or a mouse without 
being frightened and trembling, are also in the habit of saying that 
they can not look at an open wound, or see blood let ; in short, that 
they "can not endure the sight of blood." And it is often the duty 
of a mother, at home or among her neighbors, to take the part of a 
Sister of Charity, if needed, and to be helpful and kind, with cool- 
ness and skill, without being frightened. 

6. Greeting. Asking. Thanking. Asking pardon. 

Children should be taught as early as possible to salute properly 
every person who comes into the house, and to return thanks for 
whatever is given them ; and also to ask for what they want. If they 
are not taught to thank and to ask, they will very soon come to think 
that every thing and any thing they think of must be given to them ; 
and that they are entitled to command, and must be obeyed by all. 
Thanking and asking teach them that they depend upon their older 
friends ; and that things are given them and done for them, out of 
love, and not from obligation. They thus also learn to give thanks 
to God, and to prefer their requests to him, who gives us all our daily 
bread, even without our asking, and yet commands us to pray to 
Him. Children who are not taught by their parents to ask for any 
thing nor to give thanks for it, will never think of asking a blessing 
at table. 

It will of course be understood that the requests and thanks here 
spoken of, are not mere feelingless and memorized forms of empty 
politeness. Children should not salute strangers with any specially 

*I speak only of harmless animals. The antipathy to snakes is a correct instinct, although 
not keen enough to distinguish between the poisonous and harmless varieties. There are 
many cases where no natural instinct holds children away from dangerous animals, and they 
n>ust be warned not to play with or tease them ; such as ill-tempered dogs, <fec. 

tSee the " Wandsbeck Messenger {Wandsbeckcr Buten)" Vol. II., p. 68. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 317 

adjusted formularies, but with the same ease which they use to their 
parents and neighbors. 

Young children should also be accustomed, when, for instance, they 
cry angrily, or throw any thing away in a pet, or do any other pas- 
sionate thing, to ask pardon for it, if only by saying " 1 will not do 
so any more, if you will be pleasant to me again." If they are not 
early accustomed to do this, it will be more difficult to bring them to 
it afterwards ; they will be found contrary and obstinate. And chil- 
dren who have thus grown up obstinate, will be found to conceal any 
fault which they have committed, and to be resolute in refusing to 
confess it, from a feeling that either confession or asking forgiveness 
is shameful. Children, on the other hand, who have from an early 
age been accustomed to ask forgiveness, if they once yield to the 
temptation to conceal a fault committed, will be made very unhappy 
by doing so. Like David, though after the measure of their youth, 
the concealment of the matter will be a pain in their bones, and like 
him, they will become cheerful again when they have confessed and 
been forgiven. One who has thus learned to confess to his parents 
and to be forgiven, will learn to confess and find peace before God ; 
but one who has from his youth been persistently silent, because he 
has not learned to humble himself by honest confession, can find no 
such peace. 

7. Truthfulness. Fairness. 

It should never be allowed to set before young children, to make 
them behave well, either good or bad consequences of their actions, 
which are not actually to result, and which usually can not happen at 
all. A thousand small lies are told children, which are thought quite 
harmless ; but they are not so. The more we permit little girls to 
enjoy the wonders of fairyland, and the less we practice dissecting for 
them a beautiful poem, so that they shall understand how much of it 
is true and how much not, so much the more strictly mast we adhere 
to the truth in our daily intercourse with them. A child can not 
preserve bis unlimited and impregnable faith in the words of his 
elders, if he discovers as he grows older that they have told him false- 
hoods about one thing and another. There is even danger that such 
a discovery may weaken his faith in God's own word. 

Truthfulness is the firm basis of all moral instruction. If the 
mother succeeds in cultivating her daughter's disposition to openness 
and candor, so that she is always uneasy until her mother knows 
every thing, little or great, which concerns her, then she may hope 
for success in her general plan of education. I know, of course, that 
success here, as everywhere, depends upon God's blessing ; but parents 



318 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

are co-workers with God in this particular, and must do their part 
with faithful and unceasing labor. 

Of all the means by which a child may be kept from lying, the 
chief is, that it should always find its elders telling the truth. Nor 
should children be punished for doing some accidental injury, or for 
an omission which doea not imply positive disobedience, provided 
they confess what has happened with entire truthfulness and a proper 
regret. Many mothers think it the greatest fault their children can 
commit, to break by accident, a cup, or a pane of glass ; and such an 
offence they punish most severely. If an unlucky child, accordingly, 
meets with such a misfortune, he tells lies about it from fear of being 
punished ; committing a fault for which his unjust mother is really to 
blame. 

But if a careful and judicious mother finds her child concealing or 
denying what it has done, it should be emphatically punished for the 
lie. If a child, otherwise honest, should for once tell a lie, and be 
punished, then when it confesses its fault, at the next occurrence of 
one, it should not be treated angrily, but with increased love. It 
should be made to see that its lying had caused grief, and that now 
there is joy at its returning to the truth. 

Children should early be taught that "Lying is a shame to men." 
And severe punishment should be inflicted for lying, and for direct 
intentional disobedience. 

8. Obedience. 

In order to give as few occasions as possible for punishment, it will 
be well for the mother to give as few commands as possible ; only 
when they are absolutely necessary. Fathers do not so often fail in 
this particular ; but I have known good mothers who all day long 
were constantly crying out, " Don't do that," and " Always do so," 
and who consequently quite failed to make these innumerable com- 
mands impressive. Nothing should be forbidden except what it is 
decided not to permit any longer ; and nothing should be commanded 
except what can and will be carried through. This will soon bring 
about the pleasant result of making obedient and happy children ; for 
there is no more unhappy and uneasy creature than a disobedient and 
ill-trained child. 

Mothers often commit the error of refusing to a child's request, and 
often without reason, the same thing which they afterwards yield to 
its crying. It does not help the matter for the mother to say, " First 
be still, and then you may have it." The child should not have at 
all what it cries for. If it thus never gets any thing by crying, and 
above all, nothing by crying for the thing which has once been 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 319 

refused, it will very soon leave off trying to get its own way by that 
means, and will quietly acquiesce in its mother's negative. But this 
rule should be very early observed ; even before the child can-walk 
or speak ; for it is incredible how soon children observe when they 
can count upon this mistaken complaisance, and will endeavor always 
to accomplish what they have succeeded in once. 

9. Crying. 

Much complaint is made of children's whining and crying ; al- 
though, as has already been shown, an intelligent mother can do 
much to prevent it. It is very common, for instance, for a child to 
cry out, as often as it falls, or runs against any thing. This habit, 
however, is usually a result of mistaken tenderness on the part of those 
about the child. It can not be expected that a mother shall not be 
frightened at seeing her child fall down, but even the most timid 
mother must govern her feelings, and treat the accident as quite unim- 
portant. She might exclaim in a cheerful manner " Hurra," or " Jump 
right up again !" and ought not to help the child up or lament over 
it, however much she may desire to do so ; and least of all should 
she give it sugar or any thing else to comfort it. When she sees 
that, the child is going to cry, she should promptly direct its atten- 
tion to something to look at, or say, "Come, we'll go quick and get 
this or that," pointing out something at the other end of the room, or 
something out of the door. In this way the child may be made to 
forget its fright, for it is this, and not pain, which is commonly the 
matter when it falls ; and if it felt pain, it would thus learn to bear it 
without making a noise. 

There are other cases where the mother can prevent the child's 
crying, without its being noticed by the latter. Thus, if she sees that 
the child is getting tired of playing by itself, and is therefore losing 
its interest in its amusement, or that it has run about until it begins 
to feel tired, she may, before any outbreak of unhappiness occurs, 
take it upon her lap for a little while, and tell it a story, or sing it a 
song. Or she may herself join in its play, and invent some new 
variations of it. If the trouble comes from hunger, and it is nearly 
the time for eating, the hour may be anticipated a little, without the 
child's noticing it, for the sake of keeping it quiet. 

Very small children should not be permitted to see the prepara- 
tions for meals, much before the time of eating ; it would be a daily 
incentive to crying, instead, as many suppose, of teaching them 
patience, and would teach them still more effectually, greediness in 
eating and drinking. The child's food should also be made all ready 
before being brought to it, and should be brought in with all the ap- 



320 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

paratus, and not too hot, so that it can be given at once. This will 
secure tlie satisfaction of feeding a good-humored child, without 
having to hear its crying. 

The mother should prescribe the limit of the quantity which the 
child may eat. If it stops before eating it all, it should not be made 
to eat more. But if all is eaten and the child sets up a crying, be 
careful not to give it more ; for the child would notice this, and very 
soon there would be raised after every meal, a shrieking for more. If 
the mother is convinced that the crying was from an absolute need, 
she must merely be careful to give rather more next time. 

These are perfectly simple and harmless means, and may be used 
by every intelligent mother to prevent her child from crying, without 
any danger of flattering or accommodating its whims and fancies. 
Such management will render the nursery pleasant to her husband ; 
whereas no one can find fault with him if he avoids it when filled 
with constant crying. 

10. Watching children. Plays. 

It is one of the first rules for a mother, to watch her young chil- 
dren closely, but to do it so quietly and unobtrusively that they will 
not observe it. However impoitant they are among the objects of 
her attention, it is equally important that they should not know this, 
When the child is playing by itself, it should suppose itself entirely 
unnoticed. Nothing is more delightful to see than a child entirely 
absorbed in its play, without any thought of any persons who may 
happen to be near ; and nothing is more disagreeable than a child 
who at every motion looks round to see if it is observed how prettily 
it plays, or asks " Am I not playing prettily V 

Children should be permitted to play by themselves as much as 
possible ; and should be supplied not with too many toys, but with 
such as can be made some sort of use of. The simpler the toy, the 
more room is there for the imagination, and the greater the child's 
enjoyment of it. It is not, however, by any means intended that the 
mother should not sometimes amuse both herself and her child by 
joining in its plays, but only that the child must not be permitted to 
suppose that it must always have some one to play with. 

11. Amusements of girls. 

For little girls there is no better amusement than playing with 
dolls. In their earlier infancy they will find pleasure in nursing their 
dolls, putting them to sleep, and imitating all the management of 
their mother with the babies ; and at a later period they will enjoy 
making dresses for them. This should be encouraged by the mother ; 
for although the little girls will not think of it, this will be an excel- 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 321 

lent preparation for their future duties. But I would not recom- 
mend too many dolls; it will be found best for eacli girl to have one, 
whom she will love about as well as if it were a little sister. In like 
manner, cooking for the dolls in little cooking utensils is a good 
occupation for little girls ; and they will find a special pleasure in en- 
tertaining their brothers with the results of their culinary labors. 
The excessive luxury and superfluity which 1 at present observe ex- 
hibited in the dolls and other playthings of children, I consider very 
harmful. 

All games of chance with dice or cards are decidedly to be re- 
jected ; as is the game of loto. There are an abundance of harmless 
games in summer, ball, battledore, graces; and in winter, when the 
children sit round the table on long evenings, there are many others, 
in which all the children may join, and the parents too. Such are 
games with songs and with words of more than one meaning ; riddles, 
charades, telling stories, (fee. Such games are not merely modes of 
passing away the time, but they are useful in many ways. It is a 
good sign in a child to take a lively interest in them; and their en- 
joyment of them should be marred as little as possible by any prohi- 
bitions, especially by any austere ones. Games of forfeits often lead 
to foolish tricks ; and are not to be recommended, 

12. Greediness. Love of dainties. 

Two faults often noticed in children are, a desire to eat whenever they 
see another person eating, which renders them infinitely troublesome 
to those about them ; and a love of dainties. These two faults may 
be prevented before they become fixed, by accustoming the child, as 
soon as it is weaned, to set times for eating. For the nature of its 
food, I refer to Hufeland. At no other time should .the child receive 
any thing, nor should even the most honored guest be permitted to 
give him any thing. If the mother strictly observes this rule, and the 
nurse also, and the father, the child will learn to see other grown-up 
persons or children eating, without the least desire to partake. 

A child brought up under this rule, and with simple and regular 
diet, and also so that unconditional obedience to parental commands 
has become a second nature to it, will not readily learn the habit of 
greediness. I have known children so trained, from three to six yearu 
old, who could be left alone for hours together amongst fruit and con- 
fectionery, without any desire to obtain them. 

These rules are not meant to prevent children from the innocent 

enjoyment of their fruit and cake on feast-days. On the contrary, a 

child plainly brought up, with a healthy appetite, and hungry, will 

enjoy such things much more than those who suffer^ from, constanfc 

21 



322 £DUCATION OF GIRLS. 

devouring of dainties, under a morbid craving for eatables, and a dis- 
ordered stomach. 

13. Cleanliness and order. 

For the bodily treatment of children I refer to Hufeland ; and also 
for rules for cleanliness in particular ; a point upon which he is very 
strenuous. Cleanliness should be made a habit for children. It 
should be an invariable rule, especially for girls, to keep their bodies, 
as well as their clothes, clean ; and not only this, but they should 
also be accustomed to observe and set right even the least dirt about 
them, and any disorder or disarrangement. It is scarcely calculable 
how much time may be saved by strict and punctual order. Little 
girls should early be accustomed not to go to sleep until their play- 
things are all in their places ; for every thing, even the minutest, 
should have its own place. And older girls should be taught to con- 
sider it their duty, not only to clean up every piece of work which 
they are doing before beginning another, but always to put in the 
right place whatever they see out of it. This trouble will be saved 
however, if all the rest of the household are in the habit, which we 
have advised, of always putting every thing in the right place, and 
never any thing in the wrong one. They should also be taught al- 
ways, before they leave a room, to observe whether there is any thing 
which ought to be carried out ; and when they are going into oae, 
whether any thing needs to be carried in ; so as not to be going about 
with empty hands. 

A young girl thus brought up to order and punctuality, so that 
they have become to her a second nature, will never be one of those 
order-crazy housewives, whose incessant restlessness and furious stirring 
up of the inmates of the family are almost more uncomfortable than 
any possible degree of disorder. The object of these good people 
seems to be not so much a quiet and well-arranged household, as 
constantly moving things about, and cleaning up. A girl brought up 
from youth in a household of the proper habits of quiet good order, 
will understand how to maintain the same without restlessness or a 
pedantic stiffness of management. She would not value little things 
■above great ones, nor, like those inordinately orderly women just 
spoken of, consider the days and hours of house- cleaning absolutely 
invariable, even if a change was demanded by the sickness of a child, 
■or to accommodate some important business of the master of the 
ihouse. 

14. Good manners; modesty. 

Girls must from the earliest period be trained with special care to 
jpdlished and elegamt manners; which can be done without the 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 003 

pedantry of some governesses, or the help of a dancing-master. The 
movements of healthy and well-managed little children are naturally 
graceful, and those of girls have often a special elegance. As the 
last grow somewhat older, there arises in them a certain tendency to 
wildness, and a degree of coarseness along with it. To prevent any 
evil results from these tendencies in girls, is the task of an intelligent 
mother. But it is wrong to say, as is often said, " Don't do this ; 
what will people say?" or "Don't; what if any one were looking at 
you ?" and the like. It will be quit« enough for the mother to sav, 
"Do not do that; it is disagreeable ;» or, "I wish you not to do so •" 
or, " Your father has forbidden you to do it." To violate such an in- 
dication of parental wishes, should be always considered and treated 
as a thing totally out of the question. 

Wild and boyish plays should never be permitted to girls, either 
in company with boys or when alone.* However great our pleasure 
in seeing them heartily enjoy running, jumping, and similar hilarious 
sports, it is still necessary that these sports should be restrained within 
moderate limits ; so as not to become inelegant or vulgar. A vulgar 
habit once learned, is unlearned only with difficulty^ and there is 
much more reason to expect polished and agi-eeable ease of manner 
from a young lady who has from infancy been brought up in habits 
of elegance and modesty, than from one whose attention is only 
directed to the importance of their cultivation after she has grown up 
One thus neglected must always be thinking, "How am I acting? 
How do I stand ? How do I step?" whereas the most attractive of 
all qualities in a young girl is unconsciousness; entire freedom from 
self observation and self-examination. And if elegant manners have 
become a second nature to her, she will show it, whether at home or 
in the largest circles of society. 
15. Clothes. 

Girls may perhaps have an innate tendency towards vanity and 
love of ornament; which, like all other innate faults, may be counter- 
acted by early good management. Thus, girls should be accustomed 
from childhood to be always neat and orderly in their dress, but not 
to be conspicuously ornamented. It will do no harm to cultivate 
their taste for elegant and appropriate dress, and a distaste for that 
which is inelegant and unappropriate. Little girls should be simply 
dressed in clothes proper for their age. There should be no day in 
the week in which they may go in a disorderly dress, but they should 
be dressed every day n early alike, without very frequent changes. It 

* " In choosing amusements, all company liable to suspicion must be avoided. No boys and 
pris together." So says Fenelon. The application to mixed schooU is easy. 



324 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

is of course proper to wear their Sunday dress on Sundays ; £ur it is 
the Lord's day. 

The great importance attributed by very many women and girls to 
dress, ornament, and such externals, is often and very truly spoken of 
as ridiculous, and as showing that heads which have so much room 
for entirely idle unimportant things, must be pretty empty of every 
thing else. But this is not often so felt that it is made a subject of 
grave admonition to girls. 

16. Amusements. 

In like manner, I am inclined to consider the usual amusements 
indulged in by grown-up girls, as matters in which a well-trained and 
domestic young woman should be brought up to find no pleasure. If 
her susceptibilities to such higher pleasures as really strengthen and 
stimulate the mind through the eye and the ear have early been 
cultivated, she will not easily be brought to find pleasure in the 
ordinary foolish kinds of diversion. And if a young girl who reflects, 
as one brought up in a Christian manner would be most likely to do, 
that time so idly spent can do the mind no good, and will very easily 
do it harm, she will refrain without constraint or argument from OC' 
cupations so dangerous to the purity of the soul. 

But it will not be fair to charge these amusements upon girls as 
sins, because it will be found that most of those persons whom they 
are bound to respect and love, think otherwise on the subject. But 
there is no respect in which a mother needs to exercise more care, 
than in watching lest her daughters should take credit to themselves 
for not partaking in one or another class of amusements ; and that 
they do not for any such reason despise other people, or set them- 
selves above them. For spiritual pride is far more destructive to the 
soul than vanity, or love of adornments. 

To direct their daughters between these two rocks, must be the 
endeavor of all Christian parents. 

17. Relations of the sexes. 

There are many mothers who think it necessary — in my opinion 
very erroneously indeed — to initiate their daughters in all the 
mysteries of the family relation, even in those of the sexes to each 
other; and upon points which they think they may profitably find 
themselves informed in case they should get married. We have seen 
to what a point of coarseness and caricature these views were carried 
in the Philanthropinum, after the teaching of Rousseau. 

Other parents err in the opposite direction, by telling little girls 
many things which as soon as they grow up they will find quite un- 
true. This practice has already been mentioned as always hurtful; 



EDUCATION OF GIKLS. o.->r 

•iio 

and it is so in this case. Such matters should not be discussed at all 
in the presence of children ;• and least of all in a mysterious manner, 
which stimulates curiosity. Let the children believe, as long as they 
will, that an angel brings their mother the babies; a common ex- 
planation in many places, and preferable to the messenger which some 
substitute, namely, the stork. If children grow up under the imme- 
diate eye of their mother, they will very seldom ask unseasonable 
questions on the subject, even when her confinement keeps her away 
from them ; and such a belief as that suggested will be found not to 
clash unpleasantly with the pious instructions which she has driven 
them. " 

If girls ask, subsequently, how do little children come ? they may 
be told, that the good God gives the little child to the mother, and 
that its guardian angel is in heaven, where it was undoubtedly an in- 
visible agent in procuring so desirable a gift ; but that they, the in- 
quirers, need not know, and can not understand, how God gives the 
children. Girls have to receive a similar answer to a hundred such 
questions; and the mother's duty in this particular is, to keep her 
daughter's thoughts so fully occupied with what is good and beauti- 
ful, that she will have no leisure for curiosity about such matters. 

A mother whose mental authority over her child is what it ought 
to be, will only need to say once, seriously, " It would not be welHbr 
you to know about it ; you must avoid hearing it spoken of." A 
daughter brought up with the proper moral feelings, would from that 
time feel an entire distate to listen to any references to thino-s of the 
kind. ^ 

That girl is fortunate whose mind remains a genuinely childlike 
mind until she becomes married. Afterwards, as her understanding 
becomes enlightened, she will be profoundly grateful to the mother 
who has watched over the purity of her life, and the purity of her 
thoughts also, 

18. Nursery- maids. 

There can be no greater pleasure nor more delightful employment 
for a young mother, than herself to take care of her child, and to 
have It always about her. This does not, however, imply that she is 
to have constantly and exclusively the duty of holding it and waitin<r 
on It, which would very likely lead to the neglect of the older chil° 
dren. It would be her best plan to secure the services of a female 
attendant, young, and if inexperienced, then at any rate uncontamin- 
ated; and this attendant she should teach, under her own eyes, how 
to take care of the child in the proper manner. If the mother likes 
the maid, and is willing that she should have a part in the affections 



326 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

of the child, the child will soon like her, and she it. Such treatment 
will in a measure render the maid acquainted with the wishes and 
ideals of the mother for her child's training. A well-disposed young 
woman will very soon acquire a feeling that it is a high honor to be 
employed in preserving the child from any harm, whether of body or 
soul. 

Where the family is not in circumstances to keep more than one 
maid, the mother should so arrange that the maid may do most of 
the domestic labor, while she herself takes charge of the child. A 
careful and ingenious manager will always be able to find some hours, 
from time to time, in which the maid can take care of the child, or 
take it to walk, but in the mother's presence. I add this condition 
because even the very best young girl ought not easily to be permit- 
ted to take children out to walk by herself; as so doing would ex- 
pose them to many risks consequent upon her own youth, even if 
only those are reckoned which consist in the opportunity for idle 
chat. 

The case is, however, altered when any thing happens which ren- 
ders it absolutely necessary for the children to be intrusted for some 
one occasion, to the maid. The servant, having seen that her mis- 
tress is always faithful in attending to her children, and never neglects 
them for any idle amusement, will be very much more careful in 
watching over the children and seeing that they receive no harm, 
than a maid would be to whom the children should be often and en- 
tirely intrusted, while the mother is pursuing her own pleasures. 

It may be asked, if there are so many disadvantages connected 
with the employment of young nursery-maids, why it would not be 
better for the mother to employ some old and experienced nurse, to 
whom she can confidently commit the whole charge of the children ? 
The answer is, that greater reliance can not be felt upon an older 
woman, because there is no security that she will love the children 
better, or be more prudent in taking care of them ; and thus even 
such older women as are well qualified for the physical management 
of children, might thus exert a most harmful intellectual influence 
upon them. Such an experienced nurse-maid will not be disposed to 
receive instructions from a young wife, how the child is to be managed, 
because she will feel that she understands the subject much better 
herself. And as she will commonly have served in other families 
before, she will be always critically comparing her previous service 
with her present one, and will remain a stranger in the house. 

But the feelings of a young girl who grows up to become, as it 
were, a member of the family, will be very different. The nursery, 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 327 

the garden where she has hved, frolicked, sung, and plnyed with the 
children, where she has entertained herself and them with fairy tales, 
histories and' hymns, the chamber where she has prayed with them, 
and with their mother for them ; — all these things will, as will the 
mother and the children themselves, remain during after years, a 
most happy recollection in her mind. 

I have myself known such cases ; and if they are few, the reason 
is, doubtless, that mothers do not exercise conscientious faithfulness 
toward their children, nor pass their pleasantest hours in their 
company. 

Toward other servants, with whom their relations are not so close 
as with their nurse-maids, children should be taught never to be guilty 
of using an unkind manner, nor insulting language; and still less to 
give them orders. They may only request what they want. Parents 
are often to blame for the improper conduct of their children to ser- 
vants. They find fault with them in a passionate manner in the 
presence of the children, who are only too quick to observe it and to 
imitate it. If a parent is satisfied that a nurse-maid is a worthless 
person, her duty toward her daughters, with whom such a servant 
must often come in contact, will require that she be dismissed at 
once. 

19. Holidays for children. 

People entirely worldly-minded are often found to be of the opinion 
that in families which live in a religious and retired manner, there 
prevails gloom, and a contempt and avoidance of all enjoyment. 
"These pious folks" they say, " think every pleasure a sin, and forci- 
bly restrain their children from all worldly enjoyments ; a proceeding 
which for that very reason makes them doubly eager for them.'' 
Those who say this do not remember what the apostle said, " Rejoice 
in the Lord, and again I say, rejoice ;" an expression utterly at vari- 
ance with their theories of Christian family life. And even if they 
were cognizant of it, they would necessarily misunderstand the ex- 
pression "in the Lord," until they should themselves have escaped out 
of the restless tumult of the pleasures of this world, and themselves 
experienced what it is to rejoice in the Lord. 

But I am now to speak not of the seducing pleasures of adult per- 
sons, but the innocent and beautiful holidays, and the little festivals 
of children. The mother will naturally bestow much more attention 
than the father upon the management of these, and the modes of 
securing to the children a real enjoyment of them. 

Although I quite agree with Claudius, that children should have 
many holidays in a year, yet the three great church feasts of Christ- 



328 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

mas, Easter and Whitsuntide, should be distinctly marked by superior 
magnificence, so as to be quite dift'erent in the children's minds from 
the other holidays. 

Of these three festivals, Christmas is that usually most elaborately 
celebrated as a children's festival. From the latter part of autumn 
up to Christmas day, the children, small as well as great, should 
devote their labor, however awkward, to preparations for furnishing 
little Christmas gifts for their parents, grand-parents, &c., and for 
poor children. While at work, an advent or Christmas hymn should 
from time to time be sung. The more nearly the festival approaches 
for which there has been so much preparation and anticipation, the 
more will the joyous anticipations of the children increase, and the 
easier it will be to teach them appropriate verses and texts, and thus 
to secure the spiritual blessing of tlie birth of Christ.* 

It is very important that in family devotions, during the period of 
Advent, there should be read, not a book of the Bible without any 
special reference to the time; but that there should rather be read 
portions from the prophets, Isaiah especially, and toward the latter 
part, the first chapter of Luke, which includes the birth of 
John, the Annunciation, and the visit to Elizabeth. And the hymns 
sung on the same occasions should be in like manner selected as 
appropriate. 

The giving of the presents is better on Christmas eve, than on the 
morning of Christmas day. To postpone the presents until New 
Year's takes out the very heart of the festival, the rejoicing over 
Christ's birth. And besides. New Year's is usually devoted to the 
business of contemplating the mutability of human things, and to the 
melancholy recollection of departed friends. 

When the children are assembled round the Christmas tree, three or 
four verses of the hymn " From heaven high '' should be sung, then 
the father should read the gospel for the day (Luke, chap. 2, 1-14), 
then two or three verses of the hymn "Praised be thou, O Jesus 
Christ" may be sung, and then old and young may joyously turn to 
the distribution of the presents. 

These should be appropriately varied, as the giver and receiver are 
old or young, rich or poor, or prefer one thing or another. Nothing 
superfluous should be given, and nothing too expensive for the giver's 
means. Nor should the other extreme be practiced, and nothing be 
given the children except mere absolute necessaries, such as shoes, 

* Such are, Isaiah, chap. 60, 1-3; John, chap. 3, 16 ; 1 EpisHe John, chap. 4, 19; John, 
chap. 15, 12; Ephesians, chap. 5, 1-2; the first two stanzas of the Advent Hymn, " How then 
shall I receive thee," and of Luther's two Christmas hymns, " Praised be thou," and " From 
Heaven high ;'' of these last, as many stanzas as can easily be learned. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 32g 

stockings, and other ordinary garments. These must be had at any 
rate, if there were no Christmas ; or the family were heathens or 
Mohammedans, Books or pictures may be given, however — such as 
the children like; those for instance of Spekter, Pocci, Richter; 
Grimm's stories for children, Wackernagel's reading book ; or a box 
of tools, &c. The Christmas tree should not be turned into a con- 
fectioner's shop, but should be made fantastically beautiful with gilded 
apples and nuts, stars and lilies. At its foot should be a meadow 
with a pond, in whicli should be swans and gold-fish ; and close to the 
trunk, a little hut with Joseph, Mary, and the Christ-child, adored by 
the shepherds or the wise men of the east; and over the hut should 
be seen the star. 

To the children, the whole occasion should be made to appear like 
a beautiful dream, quite separated from their daily life. With this 
dream upon them they should go to sleep, and should wake up iu the 
morning to a renewed enjoyment of the festive occasion. 

The cheerful Christmas time is followed by the very different pas- 
sion week. During this time should be read at family prayers the 
account of Christ's passion ; on Good Friday, the account of the 
crucifixion, and also Isaiah, chap. 53 ; and then should be sung the 
hymns, " O Lamb of God, &c.," " O head with blood, &c.," " We 
thank thee now. Lord Jesus Christ, that thou for us wast sacri- 
ficed,'' and the like. And the children should learn the follow- 
ing texts relating to Christ's passion; Isaiah, chap. 53, 4, 5; John, 
chap. 1, 29. 

But it would perhaps be better, instead of so very directly instruct- 
ing the children in the history of the Passion, to omit indoctrinating 
them, and to leave them to the impressions which they will derive 
from family worship, reading the accounts of the passion, singing the 
hymns which relate to it, and the general effect of the whole atmos- 
phere of their home and their life during the passion-week. 

This gloomy and dark period is followed by the brilliant day of 
Easter : the festival of Christ's resurrection. On this occasion may 
be sung "Jesus my trust;" and the gospel for the day may be read. 

On Easter day should be read also the fifteenth chapter of 1 
Corinthians, on victory and triumph over death, and on the joyful 
and assured hope of eternal life, with a reference to Christ risen, " the 
fii-st fruits of them that slept." "If he had not arisen, then the 
world had been lost." 

At Easter, also, it is well to gire the little ones a lamb out of the 
toy-shop, which their vivid childish fancy will regard as alive, and 
they will inke as much care of it as if it were a real lamb. When 



330 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

the children are older, playing with Easter-eggs is a game that will 
amuse them for a good while before the day comes. 

If the quiet period which precedes Easter is really passed in a 
peaceful and retired manner, the children will from an early age re- 
ceive an indelible impression of the alternations of rejoicing and grief 
in the course of the ecclesiastical year, without the necessity of any 
extended verbal explanation of the difference. The gospel for Easter- 
day, and the sparkling Easter hymns, will fill their childish hearts 
with joy ; and if as at Christmas, innocent childish pleasures are pro- 
vided in connection with the day, the Easter festival will become a 
time of the greatest rejoicing, whose profounder significance will be- 
come every year more clear to them, as will in like manner the more 
serious meaning of the preceding passion-week. 

Our ancestors were accustomed to apply to the spring festival of 
Whitsuntide, some expressions of the psalmist relating to adornments 
for feasts. At this time, mothers fasten green boughs over the chil- 
dren's heads on the bed, before they wake, and hang on them flowers 
and little things, that will please them. Old persons whose parents 
observed this custom, always remember the delightful feeling with 
which they went to sleep the night before, and looked up amongst 
the green boughs in the morning. 

In after life, these three chief festivals will remain in our memories 
of childhood, as far back as they reach, days of blessing, mystery, 
and holiness. 

There are other Christian festivals which have descended to us from 
the earliest period, which might well continue to be celebrated in the 
family, even though they are not by the church. On the day of the 
Three Kings, the gospel of the Adoration of the Wise Man of the 
East might be read, and the Christmas tree lighted up again with the 
but at its root with Joseph, Mary and the Christ-child, and the wise 
men adoring ; and the shining star over-head.* St. John's day is cele- 
brated in many parts of Germany, by hanging over the door garlands 
of flowers gathered for the purpose the day before. Little children 
have also a wreath bound to the arm, which they wear to church. In 
other places, St. John's fire is lighted on some elevated place. 

In like manner, St. Michael's day should remind us of the angels, 
especially of the guardian angels of our children ; and on St. Mar- 
tin's day, we should tell the children the story of the charitable bishop, 
and should remind them also of the baptism of Martin Luther on 
that day. 

But I can not go into details of all the nunicrous festivals which are 

* The sport of making a bean-king on the eve of this festival is well known. 



,M 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 331 

celebrated in so many parts of Germany for the children or by all 
the community. Such are May-day, when the children sing over the 
departiire of winter ; the spring procession, when old and young, the 
clergyman at their head, go all round the fields, praying for the 
blessings for which they are to return thanks in the autumn ; the 
harvest-home, when harvest crowns are worn, and all sing joyously, 
" Now let us all thank God.'' Those who were brought up in the 
country will remember this festival with pleasure. 

The celebration of the national anniversaries is, and should con- 
tinue to be sacredly observed. Above all should every German 
family continue to commemorate the battle of Leipzig. On the 18th 
of October, the account of that glorious day should be read over, 
patriotic hymns sung, and children and children's children thank God 
for their escape from a severe servitude ; for the preservation of the 
national life of our people. Even if all the fires on the mountain 
tops should go out, and if sinful ingratitude toward God and the 
heroes who have fallen in a sacred strife, and a stupid indifference to 
freedom and the independence of the father-land should dishonor 
thousands, let us remain faithful. 

" No ! howsoe'er may alter 

The chance and change of time. 
My memory ne'er shall falter 

From thee, thou dream sublime !" 

Children take great delight in celebrating their birthdays. We 
may allow to their natural egoism, the pre-eminence which each in 
turn enjoys on his own birthday ; to be the king of the feast, to re- 
ceive the presents, to enjoy his favorite delicacies, and to invite his 
young friends to visit him. But still, the day should not fail 
to be distinctly made a day of thanksgiving for the blessings of 
the past year, and of asking a further blessing upon that which is 
to come. 

I thus make some allowance for the egoism of children. But it is 
delightful to see children as much delighted at the birthdays of 
their parents as at their own, and contriving for weeks beforehand 
what they can do to make the occasion pleasant, and to provide 
presents. 

But I must quit the subject. Holidays for the children, if interest 
is felt in them, are cheerful and joyous occasions in family life. 

Yes : " Rejoice in the Lord ; and again I say, rejoice." Pleasures 
such as these here alluded to leave no bitter taste behind ; are fol- 
lowed by no painful and sickly feeling. On the contrary, they vivify 



332 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

both soul and body, and refresh and strengthen both young and 
old. 

And if children have been early trained to partake and enjoy such 
pure and innocent pleasures as these, they will, when grown up, be 
tormented with no lust after destroying and impure ones. 

VI. HOUSEHOLD OCCUPATIONS, HIGHER CULTURE. 

It is a main point in the education of girls, so to cultivate their 
minds that they may always have an inclination towards what is 
noble, good and beautiful, and that the many useless thoughts so 
ready to creep into empty heads, may be kept out by better ones. 

Jean Paul says in " Levana^'' after making bitter complaints of the 
prevalence of the evil just alluded to, "But what help is there for it? 
I answer, the help actually in existence among the poorer classes. Let 
girls practice, instead of the common useless and vision-cherishing 
kinds of ornamental work, the various kinds of household labor ; by 
the help of which, dreams and reveries will be driven off, by the new 
tasks and requirements which every minute will bring." 

In another place the same author says, " Let no woman, however 
etherial — or rather windy-brained — say that housekeeping is too 
mechanical for the dignity of her intellect ; and that she prefers pur- 
suits as purely intellectual as those of men. Was there ever any 
intellectual pursuit without a mechanical one with it ?" 

It is my own opinion also, that every young woman, no matter 
what her rank or circumstances, should without fail be instructed in 
the details of practical housekeeping ; and even that her education 
can not be termed complete if this part of it has been neglected ; al- 
though at the same time, I do not consider a training to such domestic 
duties exclusively, to be suflScient to occupy the minds of young 
women. There are many whose daughters are taught, besides the 
usual elementary studies and those of a religious kind, nothing ex- 
cept housekeeping duties and manual labor ; the purpose thus sought 
being to keep them in simplicity of mind, and occupied, aside from 
their work, with none except religious thoughts. This is, however, a 
mistaken course ; for in default of an appropriate higher culture, the 
minds of girls will become interested in a very useless and indeed 
dangerous way, in things of the idlest and foolishest kind. 

Fenelon says, " Ignorance is often a cause of ennui to a young girl, 
and prevents her from finding an innocent employment for her leisure. 
When a girl has grown up to a certain age without the habit of seri- 
ous occupations, she can neither after that acquire a taste for them 
nor learn to estimate them fairly. Every thing serious is disagreea- 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 333 

ble to her ; every thing that requires continued attention, wearies her. 
The love of pleasure which is so strong in the young, the example of 
her companions, occupied in their diversions, all serve to give her a 
distaste for regular and industrious occupation." 

And in another place he says, of the occupations of such ignorant 
and empty-minded girls, " They burn with eagerness to have experi- 
mental knowledge of all that they hear of, and that j)eople are doing. 
They love to hear news, to write letters, to receive them. They want 
to be talked to about every thing, and to talk about every thing ; 
they are vain, and vanity makes them talkative ; light-minded, and 
their light-mindedness prevents them from having any of those seri- 
ous thoughts which would predispose them to silence." 

I now turn to the consideration of the means of preventing young 
girls from occupying their thoughts with foolishness, and of turning 
them toward useful things. I shall first discuss the mode of making 
them familiar and skillful in the duties of housekeeping. 

I have already mentioned how at a very early age a girl may 
begin to be of some use to her mother in domestic duties ; but she 
should by no means be permitted, until well past her childhood, to 
liave any knowledge of the solicitudes of housekeeping. The mother 
should be careful not to say before her children that such a thing is 
expensive ; that it had to be bought once, and must now be bought over 
again, because it is broken or spoiled. The children should be care- 
ful not to injure or break any thing, not because it costs money, but 
because their mother has told them to be careful, and because it 
makes her feel sorry to have any thing spoiled, and still more so, to 
have her children careless, awkward, and most of all, disobedient. 
Little girls should never hear it remarked that a thing costs much or 
little. Boys are less inclined to trouble themselves about such mat- 
ters ; but girls notice them very early ; and nothing sounds more 
disagreeably than for a little thing to be saying " Mother gave 
a good deal for that," or, when a thing is broken, " They can buy 
another." 

Girls should not have what is called pocket money. As long as 
they are children, they should receive whatever they have from their 
parents, and with gratitude, but without adverting to the large or 
small expense of it. Thus they will receive any little thing with as 
much pleasure, and will be as thankful for it, as if it were something 
far more costly. It is much more aflfecting and more beautiful to see 
children on a birthday presenting flowers which they have gathered 
or cultivated themselves, or to see them, with the innocent notion that 
what they like best, must be most agreeable to others also, making a 



334 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

present of one of tbeir playthings, than to see them presenting things 
that they have bought with money which was given them before. 

In like manner, any thing produced by the labor of older girls is 
more valuable than any purchased gift. This mode of managing 
will also early teach girls the better way of assisting the poor, by 
giving them some article of property, or something to eat. 

At a subsequent period comes the time when it is the duty of the 
grown-up daughter to aid her mother in all the cares of the latter ; 
and to exercise independently all the various accomplishments in 
which she has gradually been trained by her industrious assistance in 
housekeeping. If she is a good scholar in arithmetic, she will easily 
keep the housekeeping accounts ; and will feel herself honored to be 
allowed to take part in the household cares of her mother, in return 
for the untroubled careless happiness in which her childhood was 
passed. All the assistance in housekeeping and cooking, which chil- 
dren according to their capacity can give their mothers, will be made 
pleasant to them by the very fact that they are not obliged to exercise 
the foresight which is necessary. 

An older daughter, by helping her mother consult and manage for 
the necessities and enjoyments of the younger ones, will learn better 
how to manage money than by having an allowance with which to 
supply her own clothing, <fec. Nor will she need any pocket money. 
To a grown-up, modest, intelligent and well trained daughter, her 
mother can safely say, " Whatever is mine is yours also." 

My reason for claiming that girls of every rank and condition 
should learn to be skillful and efficient housekeepers is, that when 
they become mistresses of a household, no matter how splendid their 
situation in life, they will need to exercise a keen supervision and a 
reliable judgment over their household mangement ; and will need 
to know what they may properly require from their servants ; from 
whom we find sometimes that too much is demanded, and sometimes 
too little. But she can not use such a supervision and judgment, 
without having before become acquainted with the details of house- 
keeping by actual practice in managing them herself. 

Still less can the mistress of a family afford to be without this 
previous preparation, where her pecuniary resources are limited. Early 
training will enable her to manage a household even in difficult and 
narrow circumstances, and still to preserve enough ease of mind and 
leisure for intellectual pursuits. It is true that a shrewd woman may 
even without such previous experience in housekeeping, by means of 
a resolute will and steady industry, learn to fulfill her housewifely 
duties ; but she can never avoid a preoccupation with them, and a 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 335 

certain anxiety, the necessary consequences of her want of experience. 
This will prevent her from feeling that freedom and ease of mind 
which are indispensable for the further cultivation of some talents 
very important in the family, which she has probably somewhat 
developed before. A sense of pressure and solicitude about house- 
hold matters will also operate to prevent her ear and her mind from 
being open to the interests of her husband ; in whose vocation, and 
intellectual life, she ought to take a lively interest. 

A Christian and educated housewife, whose judicious and patiently 
efficient industry proclaims itself in but few words, and still less in 
incessant restless hurry and scolding and unquiet ; whose virtues and 
talents render her home a more pleasant and peaceful spot to her 
husband than any other; who trains up her children in Christian 
simplicity and piety, without any of the narrow and mistaken piet- 
ism which contemns and neglects any of the talents which God gives 
us ; — such a housewife should be the ideal result sought for by female 
education. Such a one will unite the highest attainments in house- 
keeping and in elegant culture. 

The Christian ideal of higher mental culture is something which so 
intimately permeates and inspires to the whole being, that it must 
be extremely difficult to set it forth ; to do thus T shall however 
endeavor. 

Culture is something not confined to any single points ; and should 
begin in the earliest childhood. It is a great mistake to suppose that 
it can be given by any the greatest number of hours of instruction, 
although instruction is as indispensable to culture as are strings or 
keys to a good musical instrument. The instrument will produce no 
music, unless it has both the vibrating body and the whole structure 
for acting upon it. 

A young girl may be instructed, even thoroughly instructed, to use 
a favorite mode of expression, on all possible subjects, without pos- 
sessing a single trace of the higher grade of culture. This consists, 
not merely in development of understanding or memory, but of the 
feelings also ; in fact, of the whole being ; of all the sacred gifts of 
heart and head. It is evidenced by the whole life ; by the atmos- 
phere of the family ; by the tone of conversation ; by a certain faculty 
of observing every thing quietly, but of retaining and considering 
only what is good, what is proper. It moderates the passions, 
watches over enthusiasm, preserves the power of loving deeply and 
purely, and keeps alive the power of feeling true and pious 
enjoyment in nature and art. Culture, in young women, should never 
develop into learning ; for then it ceases to be delicate feminine cul 



336 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

ture. A young woman can not and ought not to plunge with the 
obstinate and persevering strength of a man into scientific pursuits, 
so as to become forgetful of every thing else. Only an entirely un- 
womanly young woman could try to become thoroughly learned, in a 
man's sense of the term ; and she would try in vain, for she has not 
the mental faculties of man. 

In opposition to these sentiments I may be directed to learned 
ladies ; a second-rate article, which, thank God, is extremely rare. Of 
the well-known Madame Dacier, Jocher remarks, " She had acquired 
uncommon skill in Latin, Greek, and criticism." She edited many 
classical authors; translated, amongst others, Plautus, the "Clouds'^ 
and the '^ Flutus" of Aristophanes; and "then applied herself to 
Terence with so much zeal that she got up every morning at four 
o'clock, and labored at the work all the forenoon." According to this 
account, Madame Dacier was certainly a very " thoroughly instructed" 
lady. But she was just as deficient in delicate womanly culture as 
she was thoroughly learned ; for otherwise how could she have trans- 
, lated those most indecent works ? 

Compare with her the princess in Goethe's ^'Torquaio Tasso,'" who 
says, " I rejoice in being able to understand what intelligent men say. 
If an opinion is given about a character of antiquity, or his deeds, or 
if mention is made of any department of learning, which wide ex- 
perience shows to be useful to mankind, because elevating in tendency, 
I follow with pleasure such discourses of noble souls, because it is easy 
for me to follow it." 

Only compare such a princess with that other caricature of a female 
pedant, coarse, amidst all her learning. The princess was called a 
scholar of Plato ; but so far was she from measuring herself with 
men, that she only rejoiced in being able easily to understand and 
follow the discourse of intelligent men. 

High culture shows itself in the whole demeanor of a young 
woman, before she utters a single word about any thing which she 
has learned ; while girls too often display the most utter want of cul- 
ture, by the tactless manner in which they try to lug in their little bits 
of school knowledge. The studies of girls should be intended not to 
make them know much, and still less to make them as it were hang 
about themselves their scraps of knowledge, like lifeless and tasteless 
ornaments, trying to look splendid in them ; but that they should 
thoroughly assimilate whatever they do learn with their whole being, 
and make it a well-chosen and valuable ornament of their minds. 
Such a mode of studying will secure them the permanent possession 
of what they learn, to their own pleasure and the pleasure of all 



EDUCATION OF GIULS. 337 

around them ; and as mothers, they will be able to communicate their 
knowledge to their daughters in the best way ; not merely to instruct 
them, but to cultivate them.* 

VII. READING. 

The entire opposite of an elevated Christian culture is that vulgar, 
frivolous perversion of it too often found in German families. I have 
already referred to the elements of this perverted culture, and have 
cited as one of the most pernicious of them, the wretched habit of 
reading romances of all sorts, just as they may come to hand. This 
habit produces a sickly voracity ; they read and read without being 
either satisfied or nourished by what they swallow down so greedily. 
On the contrary, it is a poison to them. If a classical work happens 
to stray by mistake into their circulating library, they take no notice 
of it. I have quoted the young lady who replied, when asked if she 
had read Goethe^s ^^Iphir/enia,'''' "I believe so." 

All readiness and activity of mind are, by such a course of reading, 
destroyed in girls; and they fall into habits of constant absent- 
mindedness, which render them totally untit to fulfill their household 
duties skillfully and prudently ; to live in simplicity and godliness. 
Serious and holy thoughts find no place in the mind of such a silly 
ili-read girl; and indeed, how could they abide in the same mind 
with frivolous love stories and perverted, vulgar, fantastic notions 
about love ? 

The miserable results of such wretched habits of reading should 
admonish us to watch carefully over the reading of our daughters, 
and to select for them, ourselves, and with conscientious care, books 
which shall promote our object of giving them a pure and noble cul- 
ture, and one pleasing to God. On the subject of this selection, how- 
ever, we find the most various and conflicting opinions. One eminent 
authority goes so far as to say that it is prudery to prevent girls from 
reading Boccacio's "Decameron;^' while others pass to the opposite 
extreme of rejecting books which are entirely harmless. Among the 
latter are most conspicuous the fanatical and narrow-minded jMetists, 
who, in order to be certain to avoid all offense, take oflfense at all and 
sundry books, scarcely excepting books of religious edification. 

It is between these extremes that the proper rule of proceeding 
will be found. 

But I shall hear it suggested that it would be well, if instead of 
this admonition, I should set forth a list of books which might safely 

• On the relations between these views of culture and the Christian ideal of the image ol 
God, see under the head of " Christianity in Education," in ^^American Journal of Educa 
Hon," Vol. VIII., p. 216—228. 
95 



338 EDUCATION OF GIKLS. 

be put into children's hands, I answer, that I have endeavored to 
draw up such a list, both by myself and with the aid of friends in- 
terested in the subject, and have failed. I very soon perceived, more- 
over, the reasons why it must of necessity fail ; which I can easily 
explain by a comparison. Let it be attempted to prepare a list of 
selected articles of food, vrhich shall be adapted to and healthful for 
the most various human constitutions. How many faults would be 
found with the choice made ? One can not bear this, another that ; 
one likes this, another that ; many will miss their favorite dishes ; and 
the doctor will prohibit many of them to the ill or sickly. 

Quite similar would be the result of making out a list of booka 
selected for reading. One and the same volume would be sound and 
nutritious food for one girl, and quite unsuitable to another ; would 
be very pleasant to one, not at all to another. In short, I became 
convinced that so great are the differences between girls, in respect to 
age, character, talent, taste, and cultivation, that it would be totally 
impossible to make out a list which would be suitable for all. It must 
instead be a duty of intelligent parents and teachers to select books 
suitable for each individual child ; and for this purpose to become 
thoroughly acquainted both with the children and the books. 

In thus selecting, the following principles must be borne in 
mind : — 

1. To consider, whether in the case of many books, they shall be 
put into the hand of the girl, to be read through by herself without 
any omissions, or whether they should first be read over by a 
competent person, and any unsuitable portions left out. This 
course would be beneficial, especially with many poetical master- 
pieces. 

2. That in the family library there are frequently books suitable 
enough for men, but not at all for girls. They should therefore not 
be permitted to pick and choose for themselves from the whole col- 
lection, and still less should they be permitted to take out whatever 
books they may fency from a circulating library. 

3. That fashions prevail also in the reading world. Romances of 
chivalry had their day, and so did family romances, bandit romances, 
ghost romances, the '■'■Mysteries of Paris,''' "■Amaranth^'' and so on, 
ad infinitum. While these were the fashion, each was in turn eagerly 
devoured, and talked of in all circles ; but how soon were they forgot- 
ten ! And it was best that they should be forgotten. It would be 
well if girls could avoid ever occupying themselves with such mere 
transient, fashionable stuff, but should rather read over and over 
again the best standard works. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 339 



VIII. INSTRUCTIOir. 



We have seen that a young woman may possess a great store of 
knowledge and skill, and 3'et not be " cultivated." The mental ac- 
quirement of girls are too often mere memorized stuff. Like Locke, 
their teachers have taken their minds to be originally nothing but a 
tabula rasa, a piece of blank paper, a canvass, on which the painter 
may represent many different things, the canvass remaining canvass, 
however, all the while. 

Instruction should be of such a kind as to produce an actual vital 
assimilation of what is taught; so that all which is learned may be 
as it were mental food, be turned into flesh and blood, may serve to 
increase, strengthen and improve the whole being; in short, may 
promote the process of culture. 

The culture of girls commonly requires a process of instruction 
entirely diflFerent from that of boys. The latter, with their tendency 
to unruliness, must early be subjected to discipline, reproved, accus- 
tomed to steady and persevering mental labor, to obedient subjection 
to a regular order of things. Such a training is required by the 
destined life and labors of a man. 

But such a course of discipline would not be the best preparation 
for the duties of girls. I have known girls for whom their fathers 
had prescribed strict plans of study, with time-tables, &c., like those 
for a school, to which they were holden so closely that I believe they 
would scarcely have given themselves time during one of the pre- 
scribed exercises, to carry a sick brother a glass of water. No one 
could approve such a scheme as that 

But should there be no regular school-like plan for the studies of 
girls ? Certainly ; there must be order ; but quite different from that 
of a school. Real order requires that every thing be done at the 
moment when that thing especially is needed. For example : if a 
pastor, profoundly engaged in reflecting upon his sermon, were sum- 
moned to a death-bed, he ought to leave his work on the spot and 
hasten to the sick man. The more sacred duties of his office must 
take precedence of all stud}'. 

This example may be applied to the whole life of a girl. A regu- 
lar order fbr the daily occupations should be prescribed for them ; 
but they must also be accustomed from early childhood to leave 
books or piano at any moment when necessary, to assist a smaller 
child, or to be of use to their parents. Such cases can not of course 
be provided for in the order of the day : they are the exceptions to 
the rule. But girls should also be trained, as soon as the exceptional 



340 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

service is over, to return at once to books or instrument, and go 
quietly on with their studies as if nothing had interrupted. 

School instruction is inferior, for girls, to home instruction, because 
it affords no interval for these services of love. And if the studying 
for several hours, one after another, is the one chief thing sought, then 
the school is unsuitable for girls. 

Any one who disagrees with these views, and so highly estimates 
the importance of continuous study, uninterrupted by any thing 
whatever, as to consider such domestic services of comparatively 
little importance, may perhaps learn a better way of thinking from 
Goethe : — 

" Early let woman learn to serve, for that is her calling : 
For by serving alone she attains to ruling ; 
To the well-deserved power which is hers in the household. 
The sister serves her brother while young ; and serves her parents ; 
And all her life is still a continual going and coming, 
A carrying ever and bringing, a making and shaping for others. 
Well for her if she learns to think no road a foul one, 
To make the hours of the night the same as the hours of the day ; 
To think no labor too trifling, and never too fine the needle ; 
To forget herself altogether, and live in others alone. 
And lastly, as mother, in truth, she will need every one of the virtues." 

These golden words describe the most important object in the 
education of girls. They ought to learn to serve, in order that they 
may learn to love, not merely with the tongue and with words, but in 
deed and in truth. And the poet adds, by such serving they become 
abl^ to rule; at least within the department where the authority 
belongs to them, if they are capable of exercising it. 

Fenelon strongly objects to the plan of insisting upon strictly ob- 
served hours of instruction, like a school, and that for other reasons 
than those already quoted from him. " A too pedantic regularity," 
he observes, " which insists upon continuous study without any inter- 
mission, is very injurious to girls. Teachere often affect to prefer such 
a regularity, because it is much more easy for them to do so than to 
exercise that incessant attention which takes advantage of any 
favorable moment." 

And in another place he thus describes the too regular kind of in- 
struction : " There is no freedom nor cheerfulness in it ; it is study 
and nothing but study ; silence, stiffness, constant prohibition and 
threatening."* 

* Madame Necker expresses herself strongly opposed to an excessive number of study 
hours, and to too long lessons (1, 82) She says, "A quarter of an hour is the shortest tima 
which 1 have allowed for one lesson ; but Miss Edgeworth has limited many to five minutes 
and with good results." 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 341 

Fenelon requires an attention which shall seize upon every favora- 
ble opportunity. But such opportunities will occur far more often to 
a mother who teaches at home, than to a teacher who works in 
school ; and the teacher, tied fast to his fixed hours, can not make 
the best use of such favorable opportunities. I shall further state 
other weighty reasons against educating girls at schools ; after having 
first explained why it is so very desirable that mothers should as far 
as possible instruct their daughters at home. 

It may be supposed that in our day, when girls are more than ever 
obliged to learn every thing school-wise, they would, on becoming 
mothers, find themselves able to teach all that they have learned, 
more especially as the very power, the art of teaching, is made one 
of the objects of their studies. 

But I am grieved to say that I know more than one woman who 
has been instructed for years at a girl's school, and distinguished her- 
self there, and yet has not been able to do any thing at all for the 
instruction of her children. 

May it not be the fact that the very practice of learning in school 
is the reason why, when grown up, they find themselves quite incapa- 
ble of teaching? Thus educated, they know of no mode of instruc- 
tion except the so-called " methodical " one ; and if they have them- 
selves remained nati;ral and simple, they will find that their whole na- 
ture revolts at the attempt to teach in the manner in which they were 
taught. That which in their teachers was so frequently a stiff pedantic 
manner, must, when imitated by a woman, appear the most ridiculous 
caricature. And what mother would desire to appear unnatural and 
ridiculous to her own children ? 

If a mother who was educated at school is desirous of herself in- 
structing her daughters, she will commonly find it necessary to neg- 
lect and forget the methods which were pursued with her, and to seek 
to adopt for her own purposes a simple and artistic one. 

There are but few studies in which a mother can not direct her 
daughters suflBciently. Some however require the aid of a teacher 
•who possesses both capacity and experience, and whose long practical 
labors hare made him acquainted with many means of lightening 
and abridging the work of study. This is especially the ease in the 
first beginnings of some studies ; such as reading, writing, and play- 
ing the piano. 

But such considerations are by no means the only ones which 
mothers urge against undertaking to instruct their daughters. They 
repeat, " We have not the time ; we have not the knowledge ; we 
have no skill in teaching ;" there is almost nothing which they have 



342 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

not, except one thing whose deficiency they do not willingly admit — 
steady, persevering, conscientious good-will. 

Many a mother says she has no time to teach her daughters, who 
nevertheless has abundance of time for useless and idle society, for 
thte theater, for all manner of similar purposes. If they would only 
reckon up the hours which they thus waste in one week ! But they 
lack the requisite knowledge. How easily might they acquire it, if 
they would only make use of a small part of the time they spend so 
uselessly ; if more especially they would learn by the very work of 
teaching* Do they lack skill in teaching ? A sensible mother, who 
sincerely loves her children, who makes it a conscientious duty to 
educate them well, will, by God's help, soon discover the best method, 
a simple mode of teaching, not encumbered with artistic rules ; and 
for which she can consult to good advantage with her husband, and 
with intelligent friends.f * 

If she is fully in earnest in her task, and still finds that her attain- 
ments are unequal to it, it will then be time enough to look for help. 

The best auxiliary plan will be, where several families are like- 
minded and in sufficiently close social relations, for one of the mothers, 
say one who knows French best, to admit the daughters of the rest 
to the instruction which she gives her daughters in French ; for an- 
other in like manner to take charge of singing ; and so on. 

If circumstances do not admit of this arrangement, a number of 
associated families might employ a private teacher, who might in- 
struct their daughtei-s either in one of their houses, or in turn at each, 
at fixed hours J. 

In addition to the reasons already adduced against instructing girls 
of the higher classes in the so-called " Institutes,"! may be mentioned 
the following : — 

When children from families of the same general character, stand- 
ing and modes of thinking are taught together, none of them hears 
from the other any thing inconsistent with what he hears at home, or 
with his home impressions. But the case is quite different at the 
Institutes, even at the best of them. At these are found a collection 

* '•'Docendo distimns." •' We learn by teaching." 

t There is a great difference between modest mothers who distrust their own powers, and 
those mis-educated, over-educated, conceited women, who think the work of instructing their 
children far below their dignity ; a business proper enough for medioere. subordinated 
drudges, but not for etherial and elevated minds. Such mistaken mothers are sounding braes 
and tinkling cymbals ; they are destitute of maternal love. But they have Aeir reward. 

II have not mentioned, because it seemed to me too self-evident, that every father ought 
to instruct his own daughters, so far as bis knowledge, faculty for teaching, and leisure will 
admit ; and that he ought to have a general charge of their instruction and education, and is 
more or less responsible for it. 

§ Female boarding-schools. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. g^g 

of girls from families of the most various and even diametrically 
opposite views on religious and national subjects, and especially on 
matters connected with social life and amusements. Girls who at 
home hear little of frivolous worldly matters, such as balls, theaters, 
&c., here come in contact with others who describe these things to 
them as most delightful. Jt is no wonder that this arouses in them 
the most lively desires to attend theatei-s and balls, so that from that 
time forward they plague their parents incessantly with requests to 
go there, even to such a degree that the latter are often weak enough 
to let them go, to get rid of the annoyance. 

Having thus spoken generally of the instruction of girls, let us 
proceed to the separate departments of it. 
1. Reading. 

The study of reading should never be commenced before the sixth 

or seventh year. The^iore determinate and surer methods which an 

intelligent and experienced schoolmaster will use will enable him to 

teach reading very quickly. A mother, however, will proceed very 

uncertainly in the business ; will for that reason make the study very 

disgusting to the children, and by means of the consciousness that 

she is to blame for this, will herself become disgusted and impatient. 

When this happens, the child will imbibe not only a distaste for 

learning to read, but against every thing that she may try to teach him. 

But I do not deny to all mothers the ability to instruct in reading, 

for I myself learned to read from a most loving and patient mother. 

When the children have learned to read, they no longer need a 

teacher; an intelligent, educated, pious mother will herself be very 

competent to conduct their further studies. 

The question will now arise, What shall the children read ? Shall 
it be the « Children s Friends;' of which so many hundreds of thou- 
sands of copies have been issued, with their tiresome stories of good 
children and bad children, of good William and naughty Louis, &c.? 
Shall they at the same time commit to memory the verses in these 
books, such for instance as that most remarkable one composed in the 
name of one of these good Williams, by some foolish pedant well 
grounded in vanity, but thoroughly ignorant of his catechism, which 
begiqs thus :.-=- 

" When I do what's right 
And with all my might, 
Nor ever disobey. 
How happily I play ! 
Praise from my papa, 
Love from my mamma— 
Every thing I see 
Loves and praises me." 



344 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

But I will devote no more time to these flat and tiresome books ; 
most of which originated in the equally flat and wearisome period of 
" Nationalism." 

At a later period, other writers, especially Wackernagel, compiled 
books based on the right principle, namely, that children should read 
only good matter and such as has a permanent value. This principle 
is the more important, because what children read at an early age 
impresses itself so much more deeply upon the memory ; being almost 
indelible by the course of subsequent years.* We merely would not 
desire to fix in their minds any bad materials, or indifferent ones, 
which will grow there all their lives like ill weeds ; which will be ever 
re-echoing there, like miserable street music which we happen to hear, 
and which afterwards continues to haunt us in spite of ourselves. 

A second point to be borne in mind in selecting books for young 
girls is, that they should not only be good in«themselves, but adapted 
to the age and character of these particular girls for whom they are 
chosen. I would not insist that they must understand all of the 
books. At the present day, as Goethe observes, the word " under- 
stand" is not understood. It is most commonly misused by school- 
teachers ; and it can not be applied to most of the books which chil- 
dren particularly like. Ought they not to read Grimm's fairy stories 
until they understand them ? They should not be put to read what 
they are able to understand, but what they like. And it is the duty 
of the mother to watch conscientiously that they shall learn only to 
like what is good and beautiful, and that they shall read only such 
materials; and that no bad books shall get into their hands. 

If a child is interested in a book, the mother will be under no 
necessity to constrain her to read it. She will not, for instance, be 
obliged to take pains to confine her little scholar's attention while 
reading the story of Aschenbrodel ; or the Little Brothers and Sisters. 
And it will be a great delight to the child to be able to read the 
stories which it has learned to like by hearing them often told ; and 
it will be no more satisfied with reading them over and over, than it 
was before with hearing them told. 

Besides Grimm's stories, much good matter for children has been 
written by Pocci. Such are also Speckter's fables, and many portions 
of Hebel, Schubert, Claudius and Uhland. I have already spoken of 
reading the Bible. 

If we desire to make the children thoroughly dislike 'heading, we 

* Fenelon's observation on this point is, " It must be remembered, that at this age nothing 
should be put into the mind which we do not desire to have remain there during the whole 
life." 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS 



345 



can find no better mode than by overloading the simplest matter for 
reading with remarks, expositions, applications, <fec. ; by making them 
rewrite it in other words ; and performing other insufferable pedantic 
school exercises. Natural good sense will protect a mother against 
such absurdities. 

It may be inexpedient even to cause the children to repeat stories 
which they have heard or read. Fenelon says, on this point, with 
great good judgment, " Stories should not be told them as if they 
were lessons ; the children should not be made to repeat them. Such 
repetitions, unless quite spontaneous, are irksome to the children, and 
deprive them of all enjoyment of the stories. If the child has a 
facility in talking, he will of his own accord tell over such stories as 
he likes best, to persons whom he loves. But such an exception 
should not be made the rule." The same principle might well be ap- 
plied to the subsequent exercise of written repetition. 

I have already spoken of the insufferable affected style of reading 
which is so unnaturally taught to girls. Against this style Fenelon 
appeared, as an advocate of a natural style of reading ; and in an 
age and country where unnatural fashions were culminating, in vast 
periwigs, and in hoop-petticoats. We Germans ought to be ashamed 
of ourselves! Fenolon's observations are as follows: "All the ad- 
vantage of instruction in reading is nullified by the practice of teach- 
ing children to use an artificial mode of emphasizing. It should not 
be attempted to make them read without any faults. The proper 
object is, to make them read naturally ; as they speak. If they read 
in any other tone, their practice is woithless ; it is mere school 
declamation." 

2. Writinrf. 

As soon as girls have learned to read, they may be taught writing; 
which should be done by a skillful teacher. When they have learned 
to write, they may begin spelling, which the mother can teach. 

I agree with Bormann, that writing is really learned by reading ; 
because it is mainly the eye which acts, by furnishing us the knowl- 
edge of the form in which the words must be written. 

The mother may proceed by dictating to her daughters something 
which they have already read, in some good book ; what is written 
may then be corrected by comparison with the book, and then written 
out clean by the pupils. The faults may be entered in a book by 
themselves. *If the matter was at first written without errors, the 
transcription may be omitted. I know by experience that under this 
system, girls will make a progress that is daily perceptible ; only con- 
tinued patience is necessary in the mother. If the mother be not 



34G EDUCATION OP GIRLS. 

herself entirely perfect in her spelling, slie can still correct the writ- 
ing, by a careful comparison with the print ; which will improve her 
own spelling at the same time. 

[Later additional paragraphs.) Since writing thus far on the sub- 
ject of writing and reading, I have, for the first time, become 
acquainted with that method which begins with teaching writing, and 
proceeds from that to reading. By this method, the pupils at first 
learn to write all the single letters, from copies furnished them ; then 
combinations of two letters, say of one consonant and one vowel, such 
as ba, be, bi, and so on, through the whole alphabet. Then follow com- 
binations of three or more letters ; and words. Thus writing and 
reading of what is written go on hand in hand. After thorough 
practice in such writing and reading, the written letters may then be 
compared with the corresponding printed ones, and then syllables, 
words and sentences ; by which they will learn to read print without 
much trouble. This method seems to possess many advantages. 

The first is, that it is adapted to the nature of girls, who like to be 
employed in something that occupies their hands, and are even too 
fond of drawing on the slate. Accordingly, they learn to write down 
and read off letters, words and sentences, by this method with much 
greater interest than if they were required in a more passive manner 
merely to recognize and read them from printed pages. 

There are also some advantages in respect to spelling; especially 
in that this method makes it necessary to pay close and particular 
attention to each single letter. This is a point of great importance 
for the attainment of a correct habit in orthography ; and the method 
itself brings up the correct spelling of many words. 

It is an additional and not insignificant consideration, that this 
method of teaching reading will supply the place of others frequently 
used, which are unnatural and disagreeable. 

3. French. English. 

I have already mentioned the common mode of teaching French, 
and the purpose of it. Although I expressed disapprobation of both of 
them, still I did not mean that as society is at present constituted, it 
would be expedient not to learn French at all. 

The mother might begin her daughter's instruction in French in an 
exceedingly quiet way, by saying two or three French words every 
day to them, while they are knitting or engaged in other eraploy-= 
ments, and by repeating them until they are well impressed on their 
minds. In this manner, the children would in the course of a year 
gather quite a valuable collection of words, which might afterwards 
be shown to them in print, and then copied by thera ; a process 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. « i y 

whicn will acquaint them with the great difference between the Ger- 
man and French orthography. They may then learn the declensions 
and regular conjugations ; then, by rote, the irregular verbs, and then 
they may begin to read French, and to translate it orally and in writ- 
ing. For this latter purpose some good reading-book should be used, 
arranged upon the principle of proceeding from easier to harder 
lessons. 

Oral translation should at first be as literal as possible, without re- 
ference to the German idiom. For instance, "II me semble que je 
pourrais aiseraent repondre a cela," should be first translated :* "It 
me seems tliat I could easily answer to that ;" and afterwards into the 
more idiomatic form, " It seems to me that I can easily answer that." 
If entire periods are translated together, and freely, without this 
direct attention to the sense of each word, the pupils will misunder- 
stand many words, and substitute them for each other.f 

The mother may read to the girls the beginning of some interest- 
ing story from the German translation ; and may then give them 
the whole in the French, without any translation. Curiosity to know 
the sequel of the story will impel them to master the whole of it. 

The question is frequently asked, What is the best method of in- 
structing in German composition ? I reply, careful translation from 
the French, and afterwards from the English, into good German, is 
the best exercise in composition. If the mother doubts her capacity 
to correct such translations, let her give lessons from some French 
book of which a good translation is at hand, which she can consult 
in correcting. Madame Necker recommends careful written transla- 
tion as " practice in good style," and also as " practice in patience ; a 
quality very likely to fail women in intellectual labor." 

Beside? translations from German into French, may be used also 
translations from French into German ; which may serve to correct 
the translations of the class, by comparison. 

When the girls have got so far in French that they can read an 
easy book without especial effort and constant use of the dictionary, 
they may begin English, in the same way in which they began 
French. 

But what will be the result of this course in relation to speaking 
French ? In my opinion, girls who have committed to memory French 
words, phrases, declensions, and conjugations, have secured a store of 
French words and idioms by reading and translating from French 

* In place of the German translation, English is here given, of course, but the point will be 
sufficiently clear.— Trans. 

t What I have said in another place respecting the absurd system of Hamilton, will suffl 
ciently show that I am not here recommending it.— ''American Journal of Education " Vol 
VI., p. 587. ' 



348 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

books, and whose mothers have made them practice speaking French 
to a moderate extent, will necessarily speak it better than those who 
have only been practiced in talking over a narrow selection of phrases 
which embody no thought, but are merely the current conventionalisms 
of governesses. 

In point of literature, England confessedly offers a much greater 
choice generally, and specially for girls, of valuable, morally pure and 
interesting books, than France. Among other advantages, it con- 
tains many books for children which are so natural and simple as 
quite to put to shame many of the childish and affected German 
books for children. For this reason, and for many others, I think 
that in case it were necessary to select but one of the two languages, 
French or English, for a girl to study, it should be English. 

4. Arithmetic. 

I have but little additional* to say on the subject of instruction in 
arithmetic. It will be easy for the mother to teach her little ones to count 
with beans, nuts, <fec., and to instruct them in the rudiments of adding, 
subtracting and dividing. It would be my advice that they should 
avail themselves of the counters already described, in order to 
give the children correct ideas and readiness in writing numbers; 
and at the same time a thorough understanding of and readiness in 
managing the decimal system — a very important point. After this 
period however, it will be best to employ a teacher ; not a pedanti- 
cally methodical one, but a simply practical" one, to give the little 
girls skill in those parts of arithmetic which they will need to use in 
after-life ; especially in mental arithmetic. The degree to which a 
mother can be of use in this matter depends upon her attainments in 
arithmetic. She might in any event now and then give the girls a 
problem in mental arithmetic while they are sewing and knitting. 

5. Singing. 

There are now-a-days but few mothei-s who have not learned to 
sing while young, either at school or of a singing-master ; but usually, 
as I have mentioned, only for the sake of making a good appearance 
in society. But the gift of song ought to accompany women all 
through their lives. Thus, Madame Necker says,f "If our love of 
art were perfectly pure, we should not lay aside music as soon as we 
find ourselves too old to make a show with it in society. It would 
continue to delight our children, to adorn our domestic life, to sanctify 
and cheer us, and to encourage and support us even if left to 
solitude." 

I have often heard young mothers say, " I sung much when I was 

* ^'American Jourtiat of Education," Vol. VIIl., pp. 170—182. t Part I., p. 160. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 349 

a young girl, but not such songs as I can sing with my daughtei-s." 
And it is very true that opera airs, and the artificial affected songs 
now taught to young ladies, are quite unadapted to children, and that 
it would be altogether unfortunate to have them introduced into the 
nursery. If such music is the only kind that the mother knows, she 
should first buy a good book of church chorals, arranged rhythmically, 
because children will learn and retain such more easily than un- 
rliylhmic ones. Out of this book she should herself learn such hymns 
as are best for family worship, and should practice them with her 
children, so that she and they can sing them at morning and evening 
along with the whole household. Then let her procure a good col- 
lection of songs ; say the " German songs for Young and Old,"* and 
make use of that. But she should in any case beware of being 
betrayed into the use of any of the foolish and feeble songs about 
youth and virtue, which are got up expressly for the young. 

The only singing practice proper for little girls, is simply the 
natural singing together of easy pious or joyous songs,f without any 
methodical instruction at any prescribed time. They should not be 
made to sing any longer than is pleasant to them. If any one of 
them happens to be destitute of a musical ear, and to take no pleas- 
ure in singing with the rest, she should be allowed to be silent, so as 
not to interrupt the rest. She should, however, commit to memory 
the words that are sung ; which the singers will remember without that 
by repeating them in singing ; and it is probable that after a longer 
or shorter time, she will join in with the rest. If the children fail in 
singing the first time, they should by no means be laughed at ; for 
practice will remedy the defects. Nor should even very little chil- 
dren be prevented from joining in with the others ; and they will be 
found surprisingly soon to master the melody. It is " out of the 
mouths of babes and sucklings," that, we are told, God " hath per- 
fected praise." 

If the mother is quite incapable of teaching her children singing, 
i. e., unable to sing a melody, the father, or some other member of 
the household, or some female friend, should be induced to sing fre- 
quently with the children ; for if they are to develop into highly 
cultivated adults, they must not be allowed to grow up without 
singing. 

Scientific instruction in singing should never be given to girls until 
they are grown up and well developed physically. If it is done 

* "Deutsche Liederfitr Jung und Alt." Berlin : Reimer, publisher, 1818. 

1"Old and netp songs for children, with cuts and melodies, (Alte und neue, Kinder- 
Lieder. Mit BUdern und Singweisen)." Edited by F. Pocci and R. von Raumer. Press 
of Guslar Mayev, Leipzig I would recommend this little book, were I not one of its editors. 



350 , EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

before, there is danger of important injury to their health, and also 
of permanently destroying their voices. There may be some excep- 
tions to this rule, but they do not vitiate it. Grown-up girls, if their 
health is sound and their lungs strong, may now receive instruction in 
singing, of an artistic character, but it should be according to the 
rules of the old school. Unless the mother is entirely capable of 
superintending this part of their instruction, a skillful teacher, male 
or female, should have charge of it. It is to be hoped that in every 
town there may be found at least one such teacher who instructs in 
the old style, without being infected by the vicious modern method. 
For the really good training of her voice, a girl should first for a long 
time sing scales, learn to hold notes, to make runs and trills, to take 
intervals accurately, <fec., until thoroughly able to execute them ; all 
before being taught any difficult song or aria. It is only by such 
practice that the singer gains entire control of her own voice, and 
learns to manage her breath and voice both, so as to avoid any risk 
to her health through too much singing. Nor can a truly scientific 
method of vocalizing be attained without such a symmetrical course of 
training as this ; nor that entire certainty and freedom in execution, 
without which it is impossible to give herself up to the singing so as 
to fully apprehend and give the expression. 

Many directions for vocaHzing maybe given by the teacher; for 
instance, on the mode of increasing or diminishing the volume of the 
voice ; and of always beginning with a soft low tone. This was the 
practice of the old school ; while the present practice is, often to 
begin with a mere scream, and of delivering the upper notes in an 
actual yell. But the most essential quality of good vocalization is, 
that the heart shall be really in the music, and that the singer shall 
herself really feel what she sings, or if her song be descriptive or 
narrative, shall entirely sympathize with it. This principle also makes 
it evident how necessary it is that the text and music of songs should 
be noble and good in character ; for no one would wish his daughters 
to be singing frivolous meaningless songs with all their hearts, or to 
put themselves into full sympathy with such. The poor girls, whose 
practice, commonly, only teaches them to produce an entirely false 
"efiect" in a purely mechanical manner, are fortunate that it is so; 
that they merely utter the sounds, without feeling or intelligence ; 
without being in the least moved by the matter of what they sing, I 
once heard a young lady, in a large assembly, sing a new song with 
so much feeling as to produce in me much sympathy for her, that she 
should so young be able to enter so fully into the feeling of so pas- 
eiojiate a poem. But as I had not understood a single word of it, T 



, y: 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 351 

afterwards asked her the substance of the text. She replied that it 
had only been given her to sing in company, and that she had not 
had time to trouble herself about the meaning of the words. But is 
it then right to train human beings as one would train a bull-finch, 
whose natu'e it is to learn to whistle tunes without inquiring into the 
words ? 

A sharp distinction should be made between the scientific instruc- 
tion in singing, which girls should only receive after they are grown 
up, and their previous merely natural practice, during which they only 
sing songs without any methodical training at all, and learn to sing 
correctly by listening to and following with the correct singing of 
others. 

But however desirable it may be that all whose voices are even 
moderately good, should pass through the good old-fashioned course 
of instruction in singing, it is still far better that they should sing by 
rote all their lives, than that they should be given over to a perverted 
method. But if confined to such mere natural singing, the pupil 
should from the beginning take every opportunity to hear good sing- 
ing, with a view to her own improvement. 

A really good method of teaching singing ought no more to 
destroy, by its study and practice of great masterpieces, the power 
of enjoying the simplest good music — even popular songs — than the 
reading of Faust ought to destroy the capacity for enjoying Goethe's 
minor poems. The greatest singers — Catalani for instance — have 
produced their most powerful effects by singing " God save the King ;'' 
as has Jenny Lind by her national melodies. 

6. Learning the piano-forte. 

Much of what waa said of singing, applies to instruction upon the 
piano-forte ; although in one respect they differ essentially. Sing- 
ing is innate in a well-organized person, as much as in the birds; 
thousands of people sing merely by instinct ; the proportion of really 
trained singers is very small. But playing the piano is born in nobody. 
Each person must learn it separately, as if it were a foreign language ; 
while singing is a classified mother tongue. 

Playing the piano is therefore an art, in every sense ; and should 
not be studied at too late a period. This instruction the mother 
should not give unless she is not only a thoroughly trained and skill- 
ful player, but also very patient. Otherwise, it will be much better 
to employ as capable a teacher as can be found. 

There quickly appears a difference amongst scholars on the piano. 
Some are not satisfied with moderate acquirements, but must proceed 
to studies of a higher grade ; while far the most girls, as well as their 



352 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

parents, contemplate a grade of attainment much lower, thougli still 
very desirable. Indeed, the circumstances of the case usually con- 
fine them within these limits, as will be perceived on a moment's 
consideration of the sort of instruction on the piano which can be 
had in the country, and in small towns. In such places it is exceed- 
ingly rare to find an instructor skillful enough to teach his pupils to 
execute the more difficult class of compositions ; and the piano is 
taught mostly by the school-teachers. It is much to be desired that 
these should be instructed in a good style of piano-playing, that their 
taste for good music should be developed, so that they shall after- 
wards be able to teach to play good music, and no other. The kind 
of music to which I here refer is only the simplest; especially chorals, 
popular melodies, accompaniments to songs, &c. Ability to execute 
such music upon the piano, will enable a young girl to give pleasure 
to her parents and brothers and sisters, and in after-life to her hus- 
band and children ; and to cheer, adorn, ennoble and sanctifj^ her 
home. 

Opportunities for a higher musical culture are commonly to be 
found only in cities. But what is learned even there, no matter with 
how much application and expenditure of time, is unfortunately too 
often only that mere heartless skill in execution of which I have 
already spoken. The most important point therefore is, to find the 
right sort of a music teacher. The model of such a teacher, among 
those known to me, was music-director Forkel, of Gottingen, an 
enthusiastic member of the school of the great Sebastian Bach, and 
who had enjoyed the personal instructions of his son Emanuel Bach 
at Hamburg. 

Forkel's biography of Sebastian Bach contains a chapter on the 
proper mode of teaching to play the piano-forte. " Bach's method," 
says Forkel, " was the most instructive, efficient and certain, that ever 
existed. First he taught the touch. For this purpose he made 
beginners during several months play nothing except separate exer- 
cises for each finger of each hand, with special reference to a clear 
and definite touch ; and for this kind of practice he wrote six little 
preludes, and six duetts."* "After this, he gave his pupils more im- 
portant pieces by himself, such as would best exercise their powers. 
To help them at difficult points, he used the judicious plan of play- 
ing the whole piece over to them; saying, 'It should sound so.' It 
can scarcely be imagined how many are the advantages of this plan." 
The pupil, " whose business it is to reproduce the whole piece to- 
gether, in its true character," thus acquired an ideal which he applied 

* Published by Peters' of Leipzig. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 353 

all his industry to endeavor to equal. The method was exactly the 
opposite of that used by so many teachers, who merely show the 
pupils how they ought to execute some single passage before they 
comprehend the whole character of the piece, and thus the style and 
execution appropriate to it; although it is this understanding of the 
whole which is indispensable before the proper mode of playing each 
part can be understood. 

These remarks, it is true, do not apply to those very common pieces 
of music which consist of nothing but a patchwork of musical scraps 
and phrases ; but only to those which have a symmetrical character, 
and distinct musical physiognomy. This is the character of Bach's 
compositions ; which we like better the oftener we play them ; just 
as one whom we love, becomes more and more beloved by longer in- 
tercourse. When we like a piece of music in that way, when we 
come, so to speak, into a personal relation with it, we shall execute it 
with a sort of pious feeling, which will scrupulously avoid whatever 
may injure its beauty or turn it into caricature. 

It would be fortunate if music teachers could be found, capable of 
instructing in Bach's manner. Could this happen, the compositions 
of that great master might again come into vogue ; compositions 
profound and full of feeling, but still pure and holy, and without a 
trace of ungoverned fleshly passion.* Such music is most appro- 
priate for girls ; whereas precisely the reverse is true of that very 
common mawkishly sentimental kind of music which is either full of 
an impure fire, or quite burned out. 

• I need not observe that I do not mean that girls ought to play 
nothing at all except Sebastian Bach's compositions. The especially 
important point is, that they should not only be thoroughly instructed 
from the beginning, but that they should never at any time be allowed 
to play mere musical nonsense of a low grade. Bach's preludes and 
" inventions '' for beginners have however a permanent artistic value. 

The rule that children shall never read any thing of a bad or vulgar 
character is entirely applicable to music. If they are always brought 
up to hear, sing, and play only good music, as they grow up and their 
sphere of knowledge increases, it will become a second nature to them 
to avoid promptly whatever is disagreeable and bad, and to love what 
is beautiful and good ; no matter in what form. They will find 
pleasure in the works of the great mastei-s however diverse ; in Pales- 
trina and Lasso, as well as in Handel and Gluck ; and so they will in 

* That able musician, Mendelssohn Bartholdy, had the greatest admiration for Bach ; and 
it was by his means that Bach's Easter music was performed in Berlin in 1828, after remaining 
m silence for a hundred years since 1728. 

23 



354 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

the simplest popular songs. The case is far otherwise with those 
very numerous persons who have been so unfortunate as to hear and 
practice and get accustomed only to bad music. It is very uncom- 
mon and very difficult for such to purify their habits, to acquire new 
ones, and to turn back to what is pure and beautiful. Such an ex- 
ception was a student who came to Forkel to take music lessons. 
Forkel, learning that he had already played a good deal, required 
him to execute some piece on the spot. The young man did so, 
evidently thinking that he succeeded excellently. When he con- 
cluded, Forkel said, " See here, my dear friend, you will have to begin 
by forgetting every thing that you have learned so far." Without 
being discouraged, the young man set to work and studied diligently 
under Forkel, with good success. This story I have from his own 
mouth. 

Most of what I have said of singing and piano -playing is the re- 
sult of my own experience. If there are any points which seem 
objectionable, I refer to the most excellent and never sufficiently to be 
recommended work of Thibaut, " On Purity in Music ( Ueber Rein- 
heit in Tonkunst) ;" a book which has had an incredible influence 
towards a renewal of the recognition and practice of good music, and 
the disuse of bad.* The editor of the last edition, Ministerial-coun- 
cillor Bahr, takes special notice of the fact that Thibaut, by the term 
"Purity in music," meant by no means merely technical purity of 
touch or expression. " What he meant," says Biihr, " was something 
quite different, much loftier, I might even say a moral quality." For 
this reason he was "the irreconcilable enemy of every thing shallow, 
vulgar, unhealthy or flippant." I can not deny myself the satisfaction 
of quoting the following paragraphs from Thibaut : — 

" Music has one particularly dangerous quality. In a painting, if 
there is a limb wrongly drawn, or an immoral character, the correct 
eye finds at once a reason for criticism, or modesty turns aside the 
gaze, at least in the presence of others. But into music can creep 
every thing impure, spasmodic, immoral ; and thus the whole atten- 
tion may be unreservedly bestowed upon what, if represented by 
words or the pencil, would for decency's sake be at once repelled. 
Therefore it is that the work of our composers and musical virtuosos 
is easy. Tendencies to nervous weakness, to wildness, extravagance, 
vulgar pleasure, afford only too many strings which easily respond to 

*In 1851, eleven years after the author's death, the third edition of this work was published. 
When it first appeared, in 1825, its interest and value were much increased to me by the fact 
that ever since 1804, 1 had been in the habit of hearing sung, with pure minds and pure voices, 
in the house of my late father-in-law, Chapel-master Reichardt, the very masterpieces so 
much praisea by Thibaut, of Palestrina, Leo, Durante, Handel, &c. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 355 

the touch, and even the connoisseur often has to listen in silence to 
the exclamation of " Oh how beautiful !" for very shame, because the 
correct explanation of the reason of the phrase could not decently be 
fully stated. And if the public is played well into such habits of 
vulgar and evil preferences, this bad taste, once con6rmed, will 
despotically govern artists." 

" Plato has spoken against the corrupting tendency of music. But 
what would he say, if he should hear the musical torments that we 
have now-a-days to endure ; the compositions botched together in so 
many unnatural ways, so extravagant in softness, in wildness, in 
amatery expression, and yet so seldom possessing the real musical 
fire !" 

"In music, as at present usually employed as a department of 
culture, we find everywhere ornament, a mass of wonderful diffi- 
culties, overloaded decoration instead of feeling and clearness ; but 
very little material for encouragement or pleasure, except in the way 
of gratifying vanity or artistic self-conceit. Thus it happens that our 
young women, as soon as they are mistresses of a home where they 
can command their time, joyfully throw all the so-called 'scientific 
compositions,' which they have learned, to the winds." 

" Music only shows itself divine to us, when it carries us out of 
ourselves into an idealized state of susceptibility. A musician who 
can not accomplish this object is nothing except a mere mechanic, or 
hod-carrier." 

"The favorite 'effects' are for the most part only evidences of 
ignorance, or of a cowardly desire to serve and please every body. 
Nature does not proceed by leaps ; and healthy feeling does not stray 
about at random, nor proceed to extravagance. The favorite sym- 
phonies, fantasias, pot-pourris, and so forth, are therefore often the 
most ridiculous things in the world. There is a mysterious introduc- 
tion ; then a sudden volley of explosions ; then an equally sudden 
silence ; then an unexpected waltz movement ; then, under the natural 
excitement of such a passage, an equally appropriate transition to a 
profound and melancholy movement ; then, all at once, a furious 
storm ; out of the very bight of the storm, after a brief pause of ex- 
pectation, a passage of light and fanciful character ; and finally, a sort 
of hurra, which brings the whole piece to an end, with a great shriek 
of exulting love. It is true that such stufi" pleases, but after what 
manner ?" 

" But the worst evil of all is, that under this favorite name of 
' efiect,' the most destructive poison is inculcated ; namely, this very 
same convulsive, perverted, extravagant, delusive, crazy folly, which 



356 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

stirs up every thing evil in the mind, and tends to the ultimate utter 
destruction of all true musical sense." 

"If many of our virtuous maidens knew what it is that they so 
often hear, or sing and play, and for what purpose one of our most 
favorite performers has directly and most cunningly contrived many 
of his compositions, they would be sickened with shame and 
mortification." 

"It is not enough to astonish with agility of finger, nor with exe- 
cuting in a wonderful manner what amounts to nothing at all. What 
should be done is, to make our sense of hearing a medium of enrap- 
turing us, without regard to the existence of mechanical difficulties in 
the music which gives the delight. It may perhaps be pardoned in 
traveling exhibitors of musical skill, that in order, in their rapid 
transit to choose what shall be most certain to produce an effect on 
their audience, they execute their most extravagant music, and almost 
nothing else ; for in like manner the public would much rather see a 
rope-dancer stand on his head, than to see him represent the most 
ideally beautiful attitudes by easy and graceful movements. But it is 
a bitterly provoking thing that everywhere time, money, and health, 
are squandered in learning what is empty and without significance ; 
and that in the struggle to execute capriccios, the art of executing 
simple music in a spirited, tender, and song-like manner, has almost 
entirely disappeared. There is but one encouraging circumstance, 
namely : that at the end of the period of childishness and caprice, 
these tormenting studies are usually given up ; and that those who 
have been fortunate enough to learn in their youth affecting, pleasing, 
elevating melodies, continue to take the greatest pleasure in them 
even to the extremest age." 

I sincerely hope that these extracts may induce some who may not 
have read Thibaut's book, to peruse it. 

After Thibaut, one of the most useful authors in this department, 
is Winterfeld, who devoted fifty years of persevering labor to the 
attainment of the most distinguished musical culture and of the most 
comprehensive historical knowledge ; and whose valuable historical 
writings have thrown new light upon ancient masters and master- 
pieces, some of them entirely forgotten ; such for instance, as the 
talented Eckard. It is to be hoped that the nineteenth century, 
which with a few exceptions is so poor in productive musical com- 
posers, may apply all its powers to the reproduction of those ancient 
masterpieces, and to their adequate execution. 

7. Pictorial Art. Drawing. 

We have already laid it down, that girls ought, as much as possible, 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

357 

to ^e kept from hearing, reading, singing, or playing any thing ugly 
or bad. To these we add, that they should not see any such thine. 
It IS no doubt impossible to preserve them entirely from it; but w°e 
should not fail to do all that is possible to this end. 

Thus, we should never have in the house any ill-favored or ambigu- 
ous or hcentious pictures ; but should adorn them, so far as our cir- 
cumstances will admit, with pure and beautiful ones; such as will by 
their daily presence exert a quiet, ennobling influence to an incalcula- 
b^ extent. Parents who care for such a purpose, should spend much 
of the money which they lay out for costly furniture to adorn their 
rooms, for those much nobler decorations, good engravings and 
lithographs. ® 

Children are very early given picture-books, in examining and 
Illuminating which, they find au absorbing amusement. In former 
times, the pictures in these have usually been extremely ugly, even so 
that It could scarcely be perceived what they represented ; although 
the vivid fancy of the children seemed to find no difficulty in deci- 
phering them. But at the present time, we owe heartfelt thanks to 
the artists of Munich, who have not disdained to publish beautiful 
picture-books. These contain correct and vivid representations of 
beasts Alpine scenery, hunting, trades, heroic scenes, &c. ; and the 
most laughable illustrations of stories, like Munchhausen's " Travels " 
The Father, Sonand Ass^ &c. The pictures of Richter and Pocci 
are exceedingly well adapted to children; their delightful, innocent 
httle boys and girls; Prince Eugene storming Belgrade, drinking 
Reuthnger wme, <fec. » ' s 

If there are any remarkable works of art at their places of resi- 
dence such as churches, palaces, galleries of paintings, &c., girls 
should be from an early age accustomed to find pleasure in them I 
know from my own experience how deep and permanent are the im- 
pressions which works of art make upon children's minds. Born in 
Worhtz, where the beautiful gardens of the Duke of Dessau are 
situated, I was while a boy, there in the habit of seeing in the castle 
and other buildings, fine pictures, engravings and statues; and now 
m my age, they all yet remain vividly before my mind. And this 
liabitude of my juvenile years was in the nature of a preparation for 
my subsequent studies of the more important galleries of pictures and 
antiques. ^ 

^ When seeing works of art for the first time in the company of 
girls, It IS best to avoid most carefully giving a too hasty opinion upon 
them. A silent and unaffected examination of the objects, 

« Forgetting itself and the world, and living in the works only," ! 

1 



358 EDD CATION OF GIRLS 

is the only proper mode of observing thera ; and this admits of no 
interruption. All have heard that affected admiration and that most 
pompous and foolish assumption of criticism, which are so frequent 
in picture galleries. Ladies look at Raphael's great masterpiece 
without either love or devotion, and only long enough to think out 
some opinion upon it, which shall be diametrically opposed to that of 
all intelligent judges, and thus more piquant ; though it is in fact, 
both stupid and stupidly bold. They observe, for instance, " That 
foot is quite mis-drawn. Is that meant for St. John ? For my part I 
never could see why they make such a disturbance about Rapliael. 
I think Van der Werf is much superior ?" I am not exaggerating ; 
such opinions are really heard. 

I do not of course mean that old and young should all be silent 
about the works of art which they see. It would be well to express 
without restraint the first impression which they make upon the 
mind. But to give a critical judgment upon them is quite another 
thing. The sonnets of A. W. Schlegel, describing works of great 
masters, are much better adapted to the minds of girls, than critical 
judgments upon the same paintings. The lives of such painters a3 
they like will also have the greatest interest for them. 

In discussing music, I spoke not only of hearing, but of singing 
and playing. To this active participation in music, drawing cor- 
responds in art. Drawing, as practiced by girls and women, com- 
monly consists in nothing except copying pictures, I knew a young 
lady to occupy a whole half year in copying one landscape, the 
original of which, which her own work did not equal in value, she 
could have bought for a thaler.* An English proverb says, " Time is 
money." This lady — to hazard a criticism of a somewhat unchivalric 
nature — had earned, by six months' labor of the most drudging kind, 
almost one thaler. But this time, wasted in useless mechanical copy- 
ing, she could certainly have expended to better advantage upon her 
housekeeping, her children, and their education. 

But what is the object of the study of drawing by girls ? 

First of all, one which will probably be little valued by the over- 
educated, they should learn to draw for domestic purposes. They 
should be able to sketch the chair which she wishes the cabinet- 
maker to make ; to draw for the mason a sufficient plan and sketch 
of a cooking-apparatus of which he knows nothing, but which has 
been proved successful elsewhere ; and so on. She should be able to 
draws birds, dogs, riders, houses, &c., for the children ; who will take 
the greatest pleasure in observing how it is done, and in trying to 

* About seventy-five cents. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. ggg 

draw the same thing, or others. Girls need to know how to draw 
flowers and embroidery patterns ; and, if they have a talent for it, to 
sketch beautiful landscapes, or buildings, when traveling. 

Instruction in drawing ought, according to these views, to aim at 
securing to the pupil the habit of clearly and correctly seeing, and 
truly and elegantly representing what she sees ; it must train both 
eye and hand. The teacher should use special pains with drawing 
after nature ; and should treat copying rather as a mere technical 
practice. Such instruction, and above all the serious and careful 
study of the works of great masters, will train girls to a love of what 
is beautiful and good, and to a dislike of what is ugly and bad. This 
love and dislike will have a great influence even upon their daily 
domestic life. Their eye, well trained, will instantly detect every- 
thing inappropriate or tasteless, and every wrong arrangement about 
them ; and will not permit them to rest until the faults are corrected. 
8. Natural sciences. 

I have already discussed the modes in which these should not be 
taught, which, however, are unfortunately those most commonly 
practiced.* 

Botany — if the term does not too strongly imply the methods of 
the schools, and the masculine mode of study — is peculiarly adapted 
to girls. Science, I have already observed, seeks principally truth ; 
but art, beauty. While the botanist endeavors to establish as cor- 
rectly and completely as possible the idea of the species Rose, the 
painter tries to present his ideal of a Rosa centifolia ; and the poet 
leads us, through the gardens of poetry, to roses of unimaginable 
beauty. 

It will be evident to every one, that girls should be trained much 
more in the artist's direction than in that of the botanist. This is 
indicated by their own tendency to paint and embroider flowers. It 
seems quite unnatural to every man of plain sense, to see teachers of 
girls, with a pedantic and wooden stiffness which makes them look as 
if they thought nobody but themselves had a thorough knowledge of 
the subject, pulling roses and lilies to pieces, even to their most 
minute parts, and making their pupils describe them in the technical 
terms of the botanist. Girls ought not to look at flowers with the 
destroying eyes of the botanist, armed with his microscope, bat with 
the eyes of a sensitive flower-painter. It is that love of flowers 
•which makes girls cultivate them carefully, and watch their growth 
from germination to seed-gathering, which is delightful. 

Similar to this love of flowers, is a girl's kindly cherishing of 
domestic animals ; lambs, fowls , doves. And here, in like manner, 

" American Jowtud of Education," Vol. VIII., p 123. 



360 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

they should not be confined to descriptions of genera and species, but 
should acquire a detailed personal knowledge of all these animals, their 
peculiarities and family habits. Caged birds in towns, however care- 
fully cherished, are but a poor substitute for the domestic animals of 
the country, and the free nightingales and finches and larks of the 
woods and fields. 

The sober, strict, and mathematically governed realm of the 
mineral kingdom may at first seem quite unadapted to girls. But we 
forget that the wonderful beauty of the precious stones are the delight 
of their eyes ; and that work in metal also pleases them, not only by 
beauty of form, but by the attractive brilliancy of the substance of 
the metal itself. 

9. Instruction in history* 

History is taught, as we have seen, even in educational institutions 
for men, on very diff'erent principles ; and it will be even more diffi- 
cult to come to a general agreement upon the mode most proper for 
teaching it to girls. Care must be taken not to lower the dignity of 
history, by making it the subject of a mere leisure conversation ; and 
also, to avoid all that pedantic character so repulsive to the feminine 
character. A course of historical instruction which treats with equal 
indifference of all people's and all periods, carries the pupil straight 
on through thick and thin, and then at the end requires that all this 
waste stuff shall be preserved in the memory, is out of the question 
for girls, and indeed for boys either. But further: while every man 
who pursues any of the more elevated callings, must possess just such 
a thoroughly impressed knowledge of the career of the most im- 
portant nations, it would be a great error to require the same of a 
woman. To represent the different characters of the three chief 
periods of the Peloponnessian war, may be a very proper subject for 
an examination for a doctor's degree, and might not be too difficult 
for the graduating examination of a gymnasium, but as a theme 
for a composition by a girl, it is an absurdity. And this is not a 
mere imaginary example ; it is a case which actually occurred in a 
German institution for girls, not long ago. 

Such preposterous conduct -would rather tend to make an intelli- 
gent man inclined to exclude the study of history altogether from the 
education of girls. At least, he would be quite ready to subscribe to 
the general views of Immanuel Kant, one of the closest German 
thinkers on female education, who says : " Never a cold and specula- 
tive instruction; always cultivation of the susceptibilities; and this 

*On instruction in geography I refer to the previous chapter under that title; which ap 
plies both to boys and girls, with a few easily distinguished exceptions. Vol. VIII., p. lU. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 361 

as far as possible in a mode adapted to the characteristics of the sex. 
Such a kind of instruction is rare, because it requires talent, experi- 
ence, and a heart full of feeling ; but women may well dispense with 
every other kind." 

Whatever diflferences of opinion may prevail respecting what edu- 
cation is appropriate for the female sex, it will certainly be admitted 
that the cultivation of the susceptibilities, of the feelings, of the sense 
of what is great and noble, should be the end proposed in the educa- 
tion of girls ; and not cramming the memory. They receive no 
advantage from mere forced impressions on the memory. It would 
be much better to restrict the matters to be learned by rote, to some 
twelve or twenty names and dates, between which all the remaining 
historical knowledge acquired might arrange itself as if between 
boundary stones. An error in chronology would make a much bet- 
ter appearance in a modest and retiring girl, than would the least 
appearance of an assumption of historical learning. 

With regard to the mode of communicating the historical knowl- 
edge which, according to the foregoing views, is proper for female edu- 
cation, it would be very easy to decide what it should be, if the 
talent for judicious, true and vivid narration were actually so general 
as it would seem to be, by the tenor of many school programmes and 
similar writings. But as a thorough investigation will show that the 
case is quite otherwise, it will be well to fix upon a few books to be 
used as a basis of instruction. What has already been said will 
sufficiently indicate that universal histories and compends should not 
be of this number. However excellent they may be — and we have 
some excellent ones — the method which they follow is not adapted to 
girls. 

Biblical history, and its collateral studies, pertain to religious in- 
struction. Of the other departments of history, the German history 
should occupy the first rank, and Greek and Roman the second. As 
for a German history in all respects satisfactory, it is perfectly well 
known that no such exists either for men or women. The Jarger 
work of Kohlrausch gives a lively and vivid general view of it. For 
Greece and Rome, I would recommend the appropriate portions of K. 
L. Roth's " Compendious View.'"'* And in connection with both, 
appropriate portions from our most eminent historians should be read. 
For the most ancient nations, the Egyptians, Hindoos, Persians, very 
httle time will suffice. And in hke manner the subject of Greek and 
Roman mythology should be restricted to the most indispensable 
portions. The Greek legends may be learned from Gustav Schwab's 

• "Gedifgfner DarsteUung." 



362 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

well-known work. After this, they would listen with interest to 
Homer, so far as he is suitable for them. And they might some- 
what in the same way be made acquainted with our own Nibelungen 
Lied. 

It is of course of the greatest service to young girls, to be familiar 
with the lives and characters of the chief models of female excellence. 
But if they should be so unfortunate as to become influenced by the 
excessive compliments which many well-meant books on these subjects 
are accustomed to heap upon the female sex, the benefit derived will 
be less. 

10. Manual labor. 

A child should never be entirely unemployed, even during the first 
five or six years of its life. As long as a little girl keeps herself busy 
in her various plays, with her dolls, in looking at pictures, in running 
about, &c., so that she is never without occupation, and does not say 
" I don't know what to do," so long she should be allowed to play 
just as she pleases, except that she should be prevented from playing 
such games as may be dangerous either to body or mind. But as 
soon as the mother observes that continual play is no longer satis- 
factory to the little girl, that she is sometimes at a loss for occupation, 
she must contrive all manner of little occupations for her, to prevent 
any such vacant moments. She might give her a horse-hair and some 
beads, not too small, and of various colors, and show her how to string 
them ; or she may draw on a card a star or a cross in pencil, then 
pierce the pattern with holes with an embroidering needle, and show 
the child how to sew through them with different colored threads. 
Such easy kinds of work, of which there are many, and which per- 
mit the children to see clearly what they are doing, afford them far 
more pleasure from their industry than mere knitting, which is com- 
monly the first thing taught, and which soon wears out children's 
patience, and hurts their Httle fingers. It will be better to let the 
knitting wait a little longer, until such other occupations as those just 
mentioned have somewhat developed the habit of industry. These 
occupations, it is true, do not produce any valuable result; they only 
keep the little ones employed. 

All girls, of whatever condition, should learn knitting and sewing. 
When a little older, they should be taught to sew all sorts of linen 
with entire neatness, and to knit their own stockings well. If girls 
gain skill in these sorts of work, they will by that means become 
capable of artistic and ornamental kinds of work, which they should 
however be only permitted to practice in the intervals of their 
otdinary domestic labor, and as a reward for industry. It will ba 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 3g3 

found that girls will take much more interest in learning how to do 
ornamental work, when it is allowed them as a recreation from their 
regular sewing, than when it is required of them. 

No general rule can be laid down for the time of beginning to 
teach handiwork to little girls ; because they develop so differently. 
But to go without learning to sew and knit should be as much out of 
the question as to omit learning to read. 

If a girl should appear to be destitute of any natural liking for 
female handiwork, the attempt should be made to teach her to like 
it by showing her how to make clothes for her dolls, and afterwards 
by employing her in making them for the poor. Poor children might 
be brought to her, or she might be told of such who need clothes, 
and she might be made to understand that by making the necessary 
effort, she might help them. Then her mother might cut up old 
shirts and other garments, and let her daughter help make them up 
into others for the poor children. She might also teach her to knit 
stockings for the little feet which she sees naked. 

As another means of giving a little girl a taste for sewing and 
knitting, she might be influenced by a wish to prepare something 
pretty for a birthday present to her father. If the plan succeeds, 
pains must be taken to keep up her satisfaction in work of the kind, es- 
pecially by taking advantage of any further occasions. In such manage- 
ment, each child must be influenced as its peculiarities may require. 

It would be desirable that girls should acquire enough skill in 
work of an artistic kind, to be able to do whatever pertains to the 
tasteful adornment of a room or a dress ; but such work should not 
consume too much time or money; and must not be pushed to too 
high a degree of artistic accomplishment. It has often grieved me 
to see a poor child straining its eyes and sitting bent over its em- 
broidering, to work with her needle a little landscape or a picture of 
the Madonna, of which a much better copperplate could be bought 
for less money than the silk cost for the embroidering. And my 
feelings have been the same to see girls working long and hard with 
a crochet or netting needle, to make a few yards of lace which could 
be bought much cheaper and prettier at the shop. 

It is very useful to have girls learn to make their own clothes, if 
only that they may afterwards be able to teach others to do so. 

I have already stated how a more intellectual employment may 
very well be combined with such mechanical work. 

IX. EDUCATION OF GIRLS IN THE COUNTRY. EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS FOR GIRLB. 

What has been said thus far, has had reference principally to fami- 
lies living in a city. The condition of families in the country is very 



364 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

diflferent. A teacher competent to instruct little girls in their ele- 
mentary studies can be found in almost every village ; but there is 
more than one reason against sending girls to a village school. 

If a mother is at the head of a very large country household, 
without servants enough to enable her to find time to instruct her 
daughters, or if she is actually not competent to the task, I would 
advise her to take into her house some educated German young 
woman, as her assistant in the education of her daughters. But even 
then she is, as a mother, bound to take as large a part in the work as 
is possible. In a very respectable family known to me, such a Ger- 
man governess was at the same time trained by the mother to the 
duties of a mistress of a household ; and was, indeed, on the footing 
rather of an oldest daughter than of a governess. 

It is always better, unless there is some absolute necessity in the 
case, to employ such a female assistant at home, than to send daugh- 
ters to girls' schools ; which takes them away from the domestic 
circle where God meant them to live, and out of the sight of their 
parents. I may repeat here what I said in regard to infant schools : 
" The bond of affection which connects the members of a family is at 
the present time continually slackening. Father, mother, children, 
each have their own views, and follow their own paths. Every thing 
which aids in this unfortunate dissolution and scattering of families 
should be carefully avoided." 

I shall be asked, Do you then reject all schools for girls ? No ; it 
is unfortunately true in too many cases that a substitute for home 
education must be had ; and that it is therefore absolutely necessary 
to intrust a daughter to such an institution. And any one having a 
moderate acquaintance with such a necessity will be ready to thank 
God for the existence of those noble women who are willing to devote 
their whole lives to the laborious task of, as far as possible, filling the 
place of th^ir mothers to orphaned daughters. There is a like neces- 
sity where the mother is very ill and suffering, or disordered in mind, 
and the daughters not grown up. In such cases, Christian institu- 
tions for the poor lost children are of infinite advantage. By this I 
mean, institutions so penetrated and sanctified by Christianity as 
every household ought to be ; without misusing their religion merel)' 
as a signboard, or teaching their pupils a gloomy seriousness of 
demeanor and pietistic habits of speech, as if these were the signs of 
trup faith.* 

While therefore I gratefully acknowledge the necessity and the 

♦Such a^ institution is the well-known and excellent one of my dear friend, Auguste Tesch- 
ner, at Waldenburg, in Silesia. 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. ggg 

blessing of good schools for girls, as a substitute for home education, 
I must still repeat — 

"Only so far would we adhere strictly to principles and rules, 
especially the fundamental laws of divine and human order, as to 
avoid the danger of becoming so estranged from them and accustomed 
to our substitutes as at last to think these absolutely right. We 
would rather use all possible means to aid in re-establishing those 
ancient and obsolete laws, and a pious and honorable family life." 

X. RECREATIONS. 

When I wished that every mother might devote as much of her 
time as possible to occupations with her daughters, I could not of 
course include those ladies who are accustomed to spend their morn- 
ings in making and receiving visits, and several times a week to attend 
tea-parties and other such assemblies ; so that regard must be had 
not only to the time consumed in these employments, but to that ex- 
pended in the toilette (I designedly use the French terra). 

Such a mother wastes the hours which would be pleasantest and 
most valuable for her children ; and her evening amusements even 
prevent the conclusion of the whole day by the whole family together, 
parents, children and servants, by a short and simple family prayer. 
While their mother is away at her evening parties, the little children 
have to be put to bed by strangers' hands ; although it is eminently 
the mother's duty to hear them say their prayers and to give them a 
last blessing before they go to sleep. And the older children lose 
their pleasantest evening hours ; which their mother could spend more 
quietly and uninterruptedly among them, than any others of the 
day. 

Accordingly, the plan of bringing up children, which we are sug- 
gesting, would require the sacrifice of such amusements as these ; but 
not that of the best kind of social enjoyment, which is certainly to be 
found in a happy family Hfe. The little children should, at least in 
the winter, go to bed at six o'clock ; and the other girls should, until 
they have grown up, go to bed at eight, and get up early. Then the 
parents and their grown-up children will have the whole evening for 
that relaxation from their day's labors, which is quite necessary; and 
they may either spend it at home with any friends who come to see 
them, or in visiting the families of other friends. This is the time 
for conversation, music and reading. The father may read aloud the 
greatest masterpieces of Goethe, Schiller, Shakspeare, &c. ; and 
particularly such as the girls ought not to read for themselves, because 
they contain passages which should be omitted. 



366 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

For a mother who spends the whole day in her sacred and often 
fatiguing duty, such an interval of relaxation is not only permissible, 
but necessary. If she works and cares and labors straight on until 
she goes to sleep, she can not wake up next morning refreshed and 
cheerful and ready to return to her work. This can only be possible 
by means of such an interruption in her hours of labor. A housewife 
who labors without any interval, who has no free hours for intellectual 
pleasure or friendly intercourse, becomes a mere drudge, and will 
soon be incapable of any vivid mental influence upon her daughters. 

Every winter's day should also have its evening relaxation ; which 
may in spring and summer include walks, in which the whole family 
should take part. 

Besides these modes of enjoyment and intercourse, the mother may, 
as soon as she is no longer kept at home by little children, visit with 
her family pleasant localities and cities rich in works of art. They 
will return, rich in mental pictures and pleasant experiences, mentally 
strengthened and stimulated ; and will afterwards often and with 
pleasure look back to these delightful days. 

Such a family life as I have depicted, is so beautiful and so rich in 
true and innocent pleasure — pleasure which so many seek in vain by 
means of diversions incessant and restless, unsatisfactory and often at 
variance with pure morality — that it most bountifully rewards the 
care and pains of a conscientious mother. 

XI. CONCLUSION. 

The subject thus far discussed has forced me to go into the examina- 
tion of many details. But it is out of the question to discuss all of 
them. If twice as many had been mentioned, any experienced 
mother could suggest many points which still required explanation. 
But it has been seen that these details had not always been classified 
by any system, and their single cases brought together under general 
rules ; and indeed, that mothers, for whom the discussion is designed, 
do not find satisfaction in general rules and universal principles, but 
want advice for particular cases. 

I shall add a few words on a subject with which I began, namely, 
family life. 

In these present sorrowful times, we look about on all sides for 
help and salvation from our condition of moral and political corrup- 
tion. Many are seeking such help, especially in reforms and renova- 
tions of church and state ; and are hoping that the regeneration of 
these two, may bring new life, blessing, and health, to all the lesser 
spheres of life which they include. But my own belief, on the con 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 3gy 

trary, is, that it is from the smallest of all these spheres, the family, 
that new life, blessing and health, must come, to church and state ; 
that both state and church, no matter how perfect the forms of their 
organization, must be mere forms, quite empty, or at most imper- 
fectly filled out, as long as the families which constitute them remain 
corrupt. 

Nor can such families themselves, such unhealthy and corrupt 
members of state and church, reach a condition of real prosperity, 
until they rid themselves of the same corruption ; and least of all, 
can good results be hoped for, if that corruption still remains, from 
the education of girls, which is a matter so entirely included in and 
depending upon the family. 

It is therefore incumbent upon me, as upon every one who under- 
takes to write upon female education, to state openly and truthfully 
the darker side of our family life; and to give the best advice in my 
power, for its improvement. 

I know well, and feel deeply how great a responsibility rests upon 
him who dares to give counsel about education. A woe is denounced 
upon him who offends even one of the little ones. May such offense 
be far from this book, and may it contribute to the happiness of the 
young. 

And finally ; it is my most heartfelt desire that God may grant 
that Christian purity and piety, the training of children "in the 
nurture and admonition of the Lord," and with these the peace of 
God and the hope of eternal life, may return to the homes of both 
high and low. 



SUGGESTIONS ON FEMALE EDUCATION. 

GERSfAN AUTHORITIES. 



Tt IS an evidence of the corruption or of the over-refinement of female 
education, that far more care is bestowed upon the art of outwardly pleas- 
ing, tlian upon the cultivation of inward good qualities. 

Thus wc see young women at great pains to adorn themselves, wher- 
ever they have an opportunity to be seen ; but all the careful order and 
neatness of their costume is mere artifice; and not an expression of their 
actual character 

They learn dancing and music, foreign languages, all to make an im- 
pression on strangers m society; to excite astonishment; but to establish 
and raiintain unity and love amongst all tlie membei-s of a household, by 
humility, courtesy, childlike attachment, judicious treatment of servants, 
a kind indulgence to the weakness of other.s, and encouragement to doing 
good, is an art unknown to them. 

They read books, study works of art, attend plays, chatter about sci- 
entific affairs, and know how to be witty and to saj- cutting things; but 
in their own liomas to comfort those who suffer, to make uj) for deficien- 
cies, to be content with a little, to do nothing for themselves and all for 
others, and quietly but efficiently, voluntarilj', without bustle, to give new 
attractions to the uniformity of the quiet life of home, the art of doing 
this is unknown to them. And 3et it is here that their true sphere of 
greatness lies. 

In learning, wit, artistic knowledge, in everything which is the business 
of a man, man can surpass her. 

The more a woman departs from that sphere of activity which nature 
has designed for her, to shine upon the theatre of masculine action, so 
much the more does she lose her natural grace, and become intellectually 

ugly. ZSCIIOKKE. 

For scientific education, so far as this belongs to girls, instruction by a 
man i-s best. For how entirely different, how much clearer and deeper 
are the perceptions of the masculine mind ! 

The delicate feminine feelings can be developed only in a woman. 

All girls taught among boys by men, retain all their lives more or less 
of an unwomanly character. 

Women who grow up under the care of women only, as in convents, 
or in very large boarding-schools, are liable to pass entirely under the do- 
minion of feminine littleness, from which they never escape. 

Men who live long, or always, without the beneficial influence of the 
female sex, are punished for it by the infliction of the most wretched ped- 
antry. This is the revenge of insulted nature. 

Caroline Rudolphl 

Avvakened from this dream, 
What is left to me of this angel?' 
A strong mind in a weak body; 
A hybrid between man and woman : 



3 TO EDUCATION OF THE FEMALE SEX. 

Unfit cither for dominion or love; 

A child M'ith the weapons of a giant ; 

A creature half way between a wise man and an ape. 

Who, in order to crawl painfully along after those who are stronger, 

Has fled away from the proper beauty of her sex ; 

AVho has also suljinitted to be cast down from a throne, 

To lose the charm of the sacred mysteries in her keeping, 

And to be stricken out of Cj^therea's golden book, 

All for the sake of the approbation of a newspaper ! 

Schiller. {Poem.) 

Said a king to his son, " Be diligent 

In learning all arts, in acquiring all manner of knowledge. 
If you come to need then, they will be your capital ; 
If you do not, they will always be accomplishments. 

RuECKEKT. (Poem.) 

Girls are destined to become prudent and economical housewives, and 
the faithful helpmeets of citizens ; and as mothers, to have charge of the 
first education of their children. 

For these domestic and civic duties they should be educated, from child- 
hood up. Aketin. 

Of the moral qualities which education should always aim to cultivate 
in the 3'oung, there are some whose development we feel to be especially 
appropriate to the female character ; such as softness and tenderness of 
feeling ; depth of sensibility ; mildness ; pliability ; patience ; self-forget- 
ting and self-sacrificing love; contentment; and submission to limitation 
within a narrow sphere ; a quality the most important of all. 

But as these qualities border upon many faults, such as excessive ex- 
citability and variableness, irritableness and willfulness, passion, preten- 
tiousness, coquetry, envy, detraction, injustice, talkativeness, meanness, 
a,nd indolence, these tendencies should be allowed to indicate objects to 
be sought by education ; and the following principles in particular should 
be established : 

1. The education of girls should, from their childhood up, be a prepa- 
ration for their future duties. Playing with dolls is proper for their 
younger years, and after that, they should be made acquainted with house- 
hold work. 

2. They should of course be thcicfore trained to industry and econo- 
my ; which are under all circumstances prime virtues for women ; and 
also 

3. In domesticity; which nothing will better teach, than the mother's 
examjjle. 

Too frequent visiting and going out with companions of the same age, 
however innocent, gives girls a habit of chattering about nothing, and 
makes them afraid of work, lazy and disorderly, and inclines them towards 
dissipation. 

But there is nothing more useful as a means of moral training, than 
judicious familiar intercourse with high-minded and intelligent men and 
women. This is a protection to feminine virtues, and instructs in the real 
tone of good society, far better than idly frequenting the ordinary heart- 
less and mindless circles. In domestic life, where they are much more 
secure from the foolish flatteries of superficial youths and men, they will 
ilearn practically the virtues of accommodation, patience, perseverance, 
contentment, subordination, etc. •. • v, • 

4. Education ought not to destroy the desire of pleasing, which is 
natural to women, but to keep it pure and to elevate it. To this end it 
Should Tie deeply impressed on their minds, that unfeigned good will, un- 



BDUCATION OP THE FEMALE SEJC „^, 

371 

assumingness, good nature without being undignified, simplicitr cood 
taste, and gracefulness in speech, attitude and movement, a?e alf ktfaTn 
able HI proportion as no direct effort is made for them 

5^ Smce it is the lot of the female sex to make others happy and to be 
made happy by love, education must teach them to set the Sest vSue 
not upon external beauty, which fades in a few years, but ufon such last' 

"r'"lrtho d"?"" r.u^'f ^"•-r^^"^^^' »Pon mentaTbeauty "'" 
r^ln the duties of the housewife and mother require many sorts of 

mechanical labor, sometimes alone and sometimes in the family circle her 
mstruc ion and education should be adapted to give her iiSact v v nnH 
regularity, and the habit of reflection even upon the 'malle J n Sf 
She should also however learn to live with reference to others t ho nT'',r 
Instead of permitting herself to be absorbed rnXnfrnci" anrrev'eS^^^^ 
she should be conversable and sociable cheerful and Wmf/ [ u ,J 
tan, chcrMness and pleasure into lif.'tt'er.U°&aM 'btd:!,' 

s„StaT4VrSlu'st3vit^^^^^^^^ 

husband's happiness, but ratheT.'terfres " h Tt Ven oecalir'^tl!:^ 

to_adm,re her more than he does; and leads to vinSaXZs otaU 

gives resignation and faith, is infinitely valuable ° ' ^ ^' ^^ 

p ' f ". ■ '^""'^ "^ permanent family trait * " 

edu^:^irnriifJs;o-t.-=riT™- ^"•'-^^^^^^^ 

public eTuc'atlTfo'' bo*"""" *°""' "" - *nsently insisted on, as 

-S?:2y;':^;h:7;-L=.ir;.£ - - i; ^^- 



g'^2 EDUCATION OF THE FEMALE SEX. 

sirable impressions, which may weaken the influence of the family on the 
disposition. Schleiermacher. 

Errors and failures in the education of girls can only be made up for 
with great difficulty. 

The independent power of the masculine mind can regain its purity, 
after error ; but the more sensitive and plant-like nature of girls loses its 
proper growth forever by one injury. 

Hence arises the educational rule, with boys to seek to strengthen their 
power of independent exertion for the struggle with the world ; but with 
girls, to preserve then- susceptible natures from evil impressions, and the 
pure tone of their minds from being untuned. 

Therefore fathers and educators should avoid all coarseness, harshness 
and rudeness in the presence of female pupils ; and to give no shocks to 
those feelings which pertain to the department of exterior observances, in 
which it is the special privilege of the female sex to govern, and to exer- 
cise a very stringent dominion. Bauk. 

For house and family, the husband is everything. 

But within the house, within the family, the wife is all ; she is the 
inspiring, embellishing and controlling power. 

Man acts in the outer world. 

But for woman, the representation of that world on the stage is a recre- 
ation in her moments of leisure. 

Home is the central point for all the exertions of the man, how various 
soever in direction ; for home he traverses, searches, conquers, all the 
world. 

But the wife rules by goodness over the sanctuary for which man has 
exerted his powers ; she is the economical preserver of the treasures 
which he earns. 

Man, surrounded in the outer world by deceit and hatred, often forced 
by circumstances to conceal his real nature and to seem other than he is, 
finds again in the love and naturalness of woman, himself and his own 
natural character. 

Naturalness is woman's most beautiful ornament. 

Upon this depends her wise attractiveness, and her tender love of family 
life. 

Everything assumed, forced, artificial, displeases ; is dead outside paint ; 
and indicates that something disgusting is behind it. 

As the child pleases by innocence and truthfulness, so does the maiden, 
the wife, the matron, by simple, modest, loving, cheerful, childlikeness. 

Though her exterior changes, yet her soul shall preserve everlasting 
youth. 

Nature has taught her to love ; has taught her the duties of wife and 
of mother. 

She will always remain a true pupil of nature, down to the latest times. 

What is foreign to her real destiny, she must remove as unnatural. 

But it is the chief fault of female education, that girls are even more 
than boys, educated to untruthfulness, pretences, and dissimulation. 

We seek to root out of them the natural, unpretending simplicity and 
loftiness of their innocence, and to supply its place with a feigned nature. 

ZSCHOKKE. 

Loveliness belongs to women. 

Even its bodily manifestation is the glory of womanhood. 

Only the delicate mental character of woman can cherish the feelings, 
impulses and tendencies, which exist in her, and the beautiful appropriate- 
ness of the numerous phases of her character; and only her delicate 



INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 

[Translated from Diesterweg^'s "Tiaehers' Guide" for the American Journal of Education.) 



" Unfolded is the world only to the observing mind ; the only avenues to the 
mind are the senses." L. FEtrEBBAcn. 

Basedow and von Rochow, in the last third of the last century, 
contemplated the deplorable condition of the German people in re- 
gard to their intellectual development, and were led to ascribe one of 
its causes to the low state of the public schools. These philanthropic 
men earnestly endeavored to devise some method for ameliorating a 
condition so fraught, on every hand, with lamentable consequences. 
Rochow asked himself the questions, " Why are the common people 
so frequently imposed upon by quacks, pettifoggers, and other de- 
signing men into whose hands they fall? Why is it that they injure 
themselves by false measures, that they are so indifferent to the best 
advice, and seem unable to comprehend the disinterested counsel of 
their superiors ? Why do they give credence to supernatural influ- 
ences, ghosts, hobgoblins, and superstition in general ?" These ques- 
tions, which have certainly occupied the attention of every philan- 
thropist, only in an altered color or form, according to the age in 
which he lived, can not be solved on the principle of self-love — that 
impulse of self-preservation in the prevalent disposition of the human 
heart toward bettering its own condition. Rochow believed that they 
might be explained through stupidity and the absence of judgment 
among the people, or, in other words, through the deficiency of all 
true illumination and development of the understanding. If he 
would therefore improve the social and intellectual condition of the 
people, he must bring some remedy to bear on this cancerous evil. 
The same sagacity which enabled him to probe and measure it, pro- 
vided the means for its medication. This was nothing less than 
bringing the vivifying influence of truth, to bear directly upon the 
intellectual faculties of every mind, by the general diffusion of knowl- 
edge among the masses. No one who understands the condition of 
the German people at the close of the seven year's war, can mistake 
the beneficence of this eflbrt and its peculiar adaptation to that age. 
In contrast with the former superstition and prejudice, mental illu- 



374 INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 

mination* — tliis attractive and intrinsic idea — became the watchword 
of the patriots of that time, and the standard under which all, who 
sympathized with the movement, enrolled themselves. Basedowf in 
his active inspiring nature, became the principal leader of all those 
who desired to exterminate the very root of the old evil, by brining 
the rising generation under the influence of mental culture. Large 
suras of money flowed in from all sides, proving that his effort coin- 
cided with the tendency of his noble coteraporaries. To enlighten 
mankind in the proper and original meaning of the term — to lead 
them to a clear insight into their condition and to the comprehension 
of their destiny — to make them thinking, sensible beings, has ever 
been, and will ever be, one of the noblest aspirations of the soul. The 
possible or really false or one-sided tendencies which such an eflfort 
can attain, are not to be considered. We view it in its natural light 
and its peculiar adaptation to the necessities of the age ; and we must 
rejoice in the salutary and blessed results, which we can better appre- 
ciate, when we compare the present state of the German people with 
their condition fifty or seventy years ago ; and comprehend the im- 
proved condition of our public schools, through these insights and 
efforts. 

The methodical culture of the understanding from the elementary 
school upwards was the object toward which these men directed their 
efforts. This they sought to accomplish by mental exercises, which 
at a later date were sometimes called ^mre or direct exercises to de- 
note that their special aim was the unfolding of the thinking facul- 
ties, regardless of the possible profit in material knowledge ; the latter 
being considered, at least, a secondary, if not quite an indifferent 
matter. The opposite of these so called pure exercises are those 
termed practical ; i. e., such as are performed on certain positive ma- 
terial of instruction, as number, form, language, &c. In that early 
period of educational excitement, the people did not believe that the 
intellect could be suflBciently exercised upon the ordinary topics in 
the public schools, or, if indeed possible, tliat it would be of any avail- 
able benefit. The method of instruction was yet immature, and the 

* True enlightening is enlightening by truth. — Eberhard von Rochoie. 

t He had, as is yet to be seen in his valuable historical elementary work, (3 vols., Dessau, 
1774,) the maxim : " He who can not perceive, can not comprehend." Therefore he sought 
to teach his pupils first seeing, and not first believing. Partially in consequence of this there 
were charges made against him, hinc illae lacrymae. The following paragraph occurs in the 
same work, Part I., page 56 : " Care must be taken that the pupil improves the opportunity 
for observation in the following manner : in company with his teacher he must spend four- 
teen days in a camp, fourteen days in a mine, fourteen days in a seaport where lie men-of- 
war, fourteen days in the coiuiting-room of a merchant, fourteen days as an auditor in the 
classes of a city school, as well as with a clergyman of a large orphan asylum, and in winter 
four weeks in the court." 



iNTUltlONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 0-75 

subjects presented were so buried in tbe dead forms of mechanism 
and common routine, that the people could not be convinced that 
every subject, even instruction in technical practices, could be treated 
in a manner improving to the intellect. That we, even now, have 
reached this stage of progress we are chiefly indebted to Pestalozzi, 
that philanthropic soul, to whose memory posterity will pay the 
tribute of an immortal fame. To its more perfect realization, however, 
the philanthropists, and the philanthropic, or as I would term them 
the philauthropinist, schools,* have ever been foremost to impart a vig- 
orous impulse. The evident necessity of a reformation in the public 
schools, met with recognition and sympathy from all classes ; the new 
plans of instruction received the hearty recommendation of the gov- 
ernment, which, seized by the new impulse of the age, began now to 
make the cultivation of the people the object of its solicitude, and to 
employ only the most competent teachers. In this manner exercises 
in thinking and speaking were introduced into the schools; and from 
this date, especially in north Germany, they appeared on a plan of 
lessons, as an established subject of instruction. We may find the 
same state of affairs, in part, at present, after the expiration of three- 
fourths of a century ; during which time the European people, as 
Avell as the public schools, have made such gigantic strides as must 
inevitably tend to revolutionize the entire theory of education through- 
out the world. At present the pure thinking exercises are used in 
many schools, on account of their formal advantage ; others have 
never adopted them ; while by some they have been entirely aban- 
doned. The latter can be accounted for, from the fact that the old 
forms, in the meantime, were supplanted by new and improved 
methods. 

The cultivation of the intellect alone, which, however, is only par- 
tial culture, and dead mechanism of method in the remaining mate- 
rial instruction, could not long remain side by side. As man gener- 
ally, according to the necessity of his natuie, extends gradually the 
culture and insight which he has gained in one direction upon every 
field of his activity, so every subject of school instruction was sought 
to be elaborated and refined for the quickening of every faculty and 
the enriching of the understanding. A light was thus enkindled 
whose reflected radiance influenced every part, from the antithesis of 
pure formal culture on the one side, to tbe material dressing, or act- 
ual knowledge on tbe other ; and resulted in the reciprocal penetra- 
tion and unity of both; that is, in the conviction that the isolated 
culture of the intellect was in itself deficient ; nay, that it was abso- 

• For the aims and methods of this school of educators see "American Journal of Edncck- 
tion,"' Vol. r.p. 489, &c. 



376 INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 

lutely injurious, or might become so ; and that as, in the rational 
experience of mature life, man does not circumscribe or limit his ob- 
servation to any one direction, so in the school also, the intellect is to 
preserve its equipoise by exercise on the common objects of instruc- 
tion in all their relations, connections, and dependencies. But this 
important idea could not be carried into execution, until further pro- 
gress had been made in the systematic arrangement of the subjects 
of instruction. At present we undeniably stand on this higher point 
of view, both in theory and in practice, as is evident from the condi- 
tion of the better public schools : a condition worthy of our praise 
and acknowledgment. We have already said, that the tendency of 
the intellectual culture, together with the lifeless mechanical proce- 
dure in the remaining material instruction, was one-sided, and that 
this tendency might become injurious; and in the subsequent use of 
this system, which was tested by the ablest teachers in this depart- 
ment, it was seen that the exercises in thinking, which neglected 
the material worth, or practical understanding of the facts, could lead 
to a hollow formalism, and drive the pupil into vague and indeterm- 
inate incongruities, could create a mania for criticism, and has con- 
tributed largely to the unequal development of the faculties. Thus 
this endeavor, so laudable in itself, soon degenerated into an empty 
play with forms and ideas ; and afterwards, when intellect was ex- 
alted to the throne as supreme arbiter of thought and action, led to 
the rejection of all that could not be comprehended or proved ; and 
consequently, sometimes to the denial of all that is deepest and no- 
blest in the sphere of feeling and religious life. For this reason, the 
conflict with this partial or unequal development was a most praise- 
worthy effort. We dare not, however, go so far as to reject the orig- 
inally good, nay, necessary influence, which inspired the noblest 
hearts, and bore most glorious fruits ; not to throw away the child 
with the bath water, as the Germans say. We are not to be induced 
to judge unjustly of that period, to which we are indebted for a move- 
ment, small indeed in its beginning, but the goings forth of which 
will touch infinity. 

But the isolated exercises in thinking* are no longer needed, since 

' That which I greatly missed in my elementary juvenile culture, at least so far as my ac- 
tive observation reaches, was an adequate unfolding of the natural power of intuition, the 
proper exercising of the senses, the habit of observation, in order to place the world, which 
surrounds the scholar and his faculty of thinhing and judging, in a reciprocal relation. I ob- 
serve that the spholar brings from our preparatory schools to the higher departments of edu- 
cation a certain amount of ready attainments, taken up by the memory, and perhaps too with 
some talent of discrimination and application. But these acquirements do not extend beyond 
a certain sphere. They are limited to the field of abstract exercises in thinking, by means of 
which it is hoped to attain a developed self-consciousness, as desired by Pestalozzi, and, 1 
add, as desired by picture and reason, They are an artificial product, something studied and 



INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. ^ny 

improvements have been made in every department of instruction, 
through the Pestalozzian school and those who have cooperated with 
it; and the improved method demands that every object shall be ex- 
amined in all its bearings, or all-sided, as the Pestalozzian school are 
pleased to express it, in order that justice may be done to every sub- 
ject and its happiest influence on the culture of youth be secured. 
This is our fundamental view of the present condition of this method 
of instruction. If the same is not introduced into all the schools of 
the German nation, so far as its theoretical establishment and prac- 
tical carrying through in courses of instruction is allowed and required, 
the reason lies not in the thing itself, but in some transient, local, or 
personal hindrance, which will gradually disappear to make room for 
that which is acknowledged to be better. By this is not only 
granted, but made evident, that it would be unwise to at once un- 
ceremoniously banish from all schools the pure exercises in thinking, 
as an established system of instruction ; but to advocate, on the con- 
trary, their universal introduction, would be a marked retrogression. 
It has been proven in many teachers' seminaries and schools, where 
all subjects of instruction are treated in a thorough and comprehen- 
sive manner, and their influence on the culture of youth fully tested, 
as well in a material as a formal, or technical respect, that these exer- 
cises are superfluous and are rendered objectionable on account of the 
time they consume. From this principle we reject all tendency to 
the preferred cultivation of a single faculty or talent in man ; and we 
may add, that such fiiculty is not sufficiently viewed in the light of its 
unity in the mind, but rather in its abstract or imagined dismember- 
ment,, not agreeable to truth, but as if the mind consisted of an aggre- 

iiseless; and instead of stimulating the mental economy to the digestion of all that is new and 
attractive, they press upon the soul like lead upon the stomach. I will illustrate by an exam- 
ple. The scholar has learned in the school to add to the idea horse every predicate possible ; 
he knows that the horse moves, runs, trots, jumps, prances, &c. If I should now place a 
horse before him, would he have such a lively intuition of these actions that, when I question 
him, he could give me their distinguishing properties'? Notatall. Perhaps he could scarcely 
give me a correct description of the outer figure of the horse, his color, <fec. He can not 
characterize pace, trot, gallop, or other modifications of his motion ; in short, a breach exists 
between his idea and the object. He is not exercised on the lively appearance of the animal, 
but solely on the unperceived abstraction, and however much he may have retained in this 
way from those thinking exercises, it is in reality of no use to him. A single walk with his 
teacher would have procured for him proportionably more solid and profitable knowledge 
than a score of such lessons. 

How now ! must we take walks with the children instead of teaching school? Occasion- 
ally, perhaps, for a change, but neither always nor for an express pedagogical purpose; 
which, at all events, would be a pedantry, an affectation, which posts placards to education 
by which people are informed what can be had in the show for good money— a merely ex- 
ternal, affected training; which nevertheless is impressed for a lifetime, and engenders blind 
servility that can never be removed. 

All culture that fails to improve nature in n natural manner, is ^7^Jurio^^s,— Director We- 
ber, in "Mover's Review," 1S43, July No., p, 13. 



378 INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 

gate of single talents or faculties. On account of this principle ttere- 
fore, we declare ourselves against the one-sided, isolated management 
of the exercises of the intellect, as well as those for memorizing* It 

• 1. To exercise memory as a separate faculty is to use the intellectual powers as machines, 
■ and to use the contents of the soul as mechanical material. In this way man comes to dead 
knowledge, whereby his nature dries up. — R. Niederer. 

2. The motives which Schweitzer advocates for separate exercises in memory and direct 
exercises in intellect, in his ^'■Method for Teachers of Eleinentary Schools " the former of 
which he denies in the second edition, prove only that the memory and understanding in 
general, must be disciplined ; but they do not prove what they were intended to prove, that 
for this separate lessons are requisite, and that they must be raised to standing subjects of in- 
struction. '• He who can remember nothing hasbut feebly apprehended. It is shallow recep- 
tivity, without intellectual self-activity. In the precise measure in which man has contem- 
plative atteutiveness, i. e., self-acting, self-appropriating, or making his own, will his memory 
and thinking faculties grow." (Fichte in his philosophical work : "On antithesis, turning 
point, and aim of Modern Philosophy '') This is just our view. Direct exercises in memory 
are not needed, they are injurious ; a conviction acknowledged by many others. Separate 
exercises in intellect, separate exercises in memory — why not also exercises in wit, in imag- 
ination, in feeling— every thing separate, and pure abstract spirit. "He who intends to make 
hare ragout, must first find a hare." — Mager. 

Under direct exercises of memory, in order to please certain critics, I place the learning by 
heart such pieces, songs, poems, &c., wliich do not belong to the regular order of recitations ; 
not those, which pertain to the continuous course of instruction, as scriptural history, and 
that of the German nation, &c. ; but those, which from time to time are assigned to the pupil 
by the teacher for the supposed purpose of strengthening the memory. This is a manifold 
mistake. The materials themselves on which the lesson is founded are to be remembered — 
there are plenty of them. But this learning by heart is not explained, and as it is not con- 
tinually rehearsed will be forgotten. Every thing a scholar learns and fergets, affects 
injuriously. 

It might be proper here, as the opportunity may not again occur, to say a word about this 
learning by heart : a practice, even now, by no means uncommon. 

On Saturday a task is assigned the children of a song, catechism, <tc. ; on Monday they re- 
peat the words. Are both right 1 1. The former is not, if the pupil does not thoroughly under- 
stand the nature of the lesson. What is to be learned must be well understood Therefore 
during the hours of study, the teacher should accurately examine the lesson with the children, 
and explain and illustrate all that is indistinct. The learning by heart is done likewise, in- 
deed principally, on account of the contents of the subject. 

2. The latter, evidently not, because the repeating of what is learned by heart, as usually 
practiced, is good for nothing. It injures the mind, and the language of children renders the 
whole affair disagreeable, and is a crying sin against their nature. The scholars ought not to 
repeat the words they have committed to memory, because the ideas are strange, the word 
sounds of which are only apprehended. What they have acquired they should deliver, not 
in a declamatory manner and with gesticulation, but euphonically and logically correct, and 
with full accent, so that it may be clearly perceived that they have fully apprehended the sub- 
ject. This is impossible, unless the children perfectly understand what they have learned. 
Only then can we require them to intrust it to memory's keeping. Where the teacher leaves 
the matter entirely to the pupil, a disagreeable and disgraceful recitation follows ; and is such 
because the requirement has not been complied with, as Philo says, a dies irae. It is but 
half learned and imperfectly comprehended. Can the teacher account for this? 

Therefore there should first be understanding; second, careful reading; third, learning ; 
fourth, delivery ; the latter singly and in concert. If it be read correctly, singly, and in con- 
cert, it will be delivered in concert as if by one voice. This in some studies and by judicious 
management on the part of the teacher, may be made an agreeable, and not unfrequently a 
very impressive exercise. The fifth part, in accordance with the above arrangement, is re- 
peating so that nothing may be forgotten. The memory is not less exercised, and experiences 
no more loss in the absence of separate exercises for memorizing in the modern schools, than 
'.he understanding does where the pure intellectual exercises have disappeared. 

We add a few sentences on this subject from and according to "■ Mager's Review," 1842, 
August number : — 

Learning has two sides ; apprehension— understanding and comprehending— and remein- 



INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. ^hg 

is an admitted fact, that it needs them botli no more tnan it needs a 
separate culture of the feeling, the volition, the wit, the sagacity, &c. 

bering. Apprehension in itself is not sufficient, the things themselves must be perceived. 
There are two ways of remembering: 1. Judicious memorizing, when the object is perceived 
without retaining the precise words; second, verbal memorizing. Of the latter there are 
also two kinds: I. Without intuition, dead, perverted, unintelligent, of the middle ages, a 
re«l learning outwardly, or by heart. 2. A verbal, yet, at the same time, an inward learning, 
a learning par-caur.* Tlie former is to be absolutely rejected, the latter to be zealously ad- 
hered to and practiced. The former is to be rejected even if the substance is afterwards 
explained. The learning by heart of the middle ages, the offensiveness of which caused even 
a hatred for the catechism, can not even be called a mechanical learning, because it lacked the 
indispensable element which exists in every mechanism. It ought to be called, sit venia 
verba, the brutish learning, as it is nothing more than an artificial training. A being designed 
to reason will by this be degraded to a brute. Its unnaturalness is discovered in the aversion 
with which children regard it. The adoption of such a course outside of the school-room, 
would never be thought of It is an acquirement which can be exhibited but not used ; it 
separates the idea from the word ; the idea must always be first, the word which is the sign 
dare only be given and remembered in connection with the idea. This lively true memoriz- 
ing, is the changing of a mere possession into legitimate property. The memory then has 
only to retain what was previously comprehended, which causes no vexations. 

Every thing that can be used as an impetus in the following instruction must be practiced 
till it works like a machine. The moment an idea is apprehended, it must be properly con- 
sidered. He who every moment would think of every thing at once, will never be able to 
reason. What at tirst seems difficult must by practice become a habit, a mechanism. The 
mechanism which is not preceded by knowledge, is false ; the true has thought as a stimulant 
within itself 

Still one more example of wrong doing: A boy of 8 years was by his teacher assigned the 
task of learning by heart three stanzas of the hymn, " How great the goodness of the Lord." 
The boy studied on the first stanza one half hour in vain. I heard him, in the adjacent room, 
repeat the word ten times in a drawling manner without vigor or accent, " H-o-w-gr-e-a t 
t-h-e-g-ood-n-es s-of t-he L-o-r-d." It was like the rumbling of a waterfall by which one 
may fall asleep. 1 pitied him. The hymn had not been interpreted to the pupil by the 
teacher. I explained to him the meaning from sentence to sentence. In twenty minutes he 
recited the lesson with expression. " If children," says Lictitenberg, » could only be brought 
to that point where every thing indistinct would be wholly unintelligible." "The greatest 
distinctness was ever to me the greatest beauty," says Les-sing. All teaching should be ra- 
tional, as is every arrangement, every operation in life. We know thoroughly and lastingly 
only that of which we have a vivid perception of the rational process by which we acquired 
it. Thus, the art of learning in general is attained and practiced, readine.«s developed toward 
infinity— onward and onwards ; and thus, every thing else is easily and accurately learned at 
pleasure ; by this adepts in learning are made ; the first and exclusive condition of the prac- 
tical artistic use of the sciences in life ; by this artistic schools are formed for the scientific use 
of the intellect. Fichte's " Deduced Plan," &c., Stuttgart, 1317. 

He who can not be prevailed upon by these aphoristical remarks to abandon the abstract 
and Incorrect learning by heart, must consider the emphatic truths by Beneke : " There is 

* "The French, who have in other matters not a rich and at this time not a deep meaning 
language, have preserved a paragraph from a more favorable period of their history, on what 
by the Germans is called learning by heart, which I may appropriately give here to simplify 
my view on a frequently exacted exercise of youth. Apprendre par cceur, say they, learn 
with the heart, or also, saroiV par c(EMr, to know from the heart, or to know in the heart, t.e. 
to take up with the mind and the soul at the same time, and thus fix it for time and eternity! 
The German expression for learning by heart, or outward learning (auswrndiglMrnen.) on the 
contrary, is only a substitute for outward forms. Thus the most indifferent things are 
learned by heart ; alas, there is frequently, voluntarily or involuntarily, too much learned of 
this injurious and insignificant trash ! Whose brain has not at times buzzed and been dis- 
quieted, witliout wishing that he might rid himself of the like. But what should be received 
into the heart and pass out from it, is easily and readily perceived to be the election between 
that which is worth knowing and that which is not worth ^nov^mg." -Autobiography of Ba- 
ron de la Fouque, p 45. o t- 3 j 



380 INTniTIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 

Each subject of instruction offers sufficient inducement to memory 
and thought in its own material. Each should be treated skillfully 
and judiciously, and every thing worthy of being remembered should 
be retained in the memory. One material will incline more to the 
memory, and another more to the understanding, according to the 
peculiarities of its nature. Historical subjects stimulate the memory, 
mathematical the reason. Thus the demand for an equal develop- 
ment is supplied by the subjects of instruction themselves without the 
necessity of multiplying independent varieties of culture. The entire 
system of juvenile instruction, according to the present understanding 
of its design, assumes the task of laying the foundation for self-activity 
in every member of the people ; and this design of the development 
of the force or dynamical direction ought to predominate, not the hu- 
manism* of olden times, nor the philanthropism of a later day, but 
the well balanced cultivation of mankind, the unfettering of every 
talent, the invigorating of every faculty ; not abstract Basedow- 
Rochowianism, not formal Pestalozzianism, according to its strict 
observance, but just as little of the material-real as of the philological- 
humanism ; not the exclusive cultivation of the intellect, but the uni- 
versal culture — which has its foundation in the public schools. 

Reasoning from the above we must reject the exercises for the in- 
tellect as a standing subject of instruction in our public schools ; yet 
it is not our intention to exclude all exercises of a similar nature, but 
limit them to the lower classes, and designate them by the term, Ex- 
ercises in Intuition and Speaking — of which we will speak hereafter. 

All instruction in elementary schools, as shown above, must rest 
upon real intuition. We consequently limit the intuitional exercises 
to the lower classes, otherwise, it is to be feared, a hollow formalism 

no general or universal culture of memory ; he who learns to remember words, learns to re- 
member words and nothing more, on each individual fact of the subject the memory is exer- 
cised," &c. Compare his ^'Theory of Education" vol. i., p. 81, 127, &c. 

3 Wackernagel's ^'Instruction in German" Fourth Part of Reading Book. Stuttgart, 
1843, p. 97. 

The.mere learning by heart destroys feeling and intellect. Only the love for the subject, the 
I«ve which goes out from it, which I only can return, its beauty, unites me to it ; this inner 
union can not be learned by heart. This beauty one retains as property, a thing directly 
comprehended ; au attempt to learn it by heart estranges it. I hold it possible to utterly de- 
stroy all taste for poetry in a boy by requiring him to learn poems by heart. There can be no 
exercises exclusively in memory and exclusively in intellect for an attentive sprightly child I 
this we seem to recognize from his very genius. But there is another question, what will be- 
come of such a child through these exercises'? He will probably approach nearer and nearer 
that condition in which every thing will be to him mere memory, or mere intellect. I have 
nothing against knowing by heart, I only oppose learning by heart. I know many men who 
have learned but little by heart and yet know a great deal by heart. He who knows a thing 
inwardly, knows it also easily outwardly. To read and hear any thing with pleasure, to read 
and reread it, loving to labor with it— this leads to true knowledge, wliich, if need be, lives 
ever in the memory. 

* Classical learning.— /"rans. 



INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 33! 

would be inouced not indeed so empty as that produced by the pure 
intellectual exercises, but calculated to lead the teacher to treat one 
lesson intuitively and another abstractly, unless he views the instruc- 
tion from the highest stand-point. As the intellectual practices 
invented in 1770, &c., were manifestly a progress in school instruc- 
tion, so also were ihe intuitional exercises which were introduced in 
the beginning of the present century, in the first two decennials. 
Both form in relation to the existing method, a fitting and instructive 
parallelism We have passed them both ; they have become periods 
in the history of pedagogy ; they form epochs. They join those 
venerable names, Rochow and Pestalozzi, and their faithful followers, 
Bruns and Wilberg, Laspe and Ramsauer. 

If at the age of five or six the child entei*s school, he is generally 
in an intellectual condition which must be matured for the proper 
instruction. His attentiveness is to be awakened, his power of ex- 
pression untrammeled, for on both of these especially depends the 
success of the method. His vacancy of mind must be filled, his 
attention concentrated and energized upon its object, and his ideas 
find ready expression in words. Thus exercises in intuition and 
speaking, or the first grade of instruction seek these important ends. 
These are exercises in intuition because the faculty of intuition is the 
basis of all intellectual culture; they are exercises in speaking because 
we can not be sure that the children have conceived the right ideas 
before they have expressed their ideas and thoughts ; and the distinct 
thought arises only with the word. These two aims do not lie side 
by side, but one within the other. The former, forms the substance ; 
the latter, the form of the exercises ; substance and form exist 
together in every true method of instruction ; hence the exercises in 
intuition and speaking form the foundation for universal elementary 
instruction. 

The faculty of intuition has two sides. One is turned toward the 
outer, and the other toward the inner world of the mind. The former 
is first unfolded and leads to the development of the latter. Hence, 
the child in the school, as in the natural world, must open his senses 
to outward impressions, in order that the qualities and objects of the 
outward world may be reflected in pictures upon his mental retina 
and become to inner intuitions, the foundation of all later mental 
culture. In course of time the power awakened by outward in- 
tuitions must be turned toward the inner world of the spirit, to which 
other subjects of instruction will offer an inducement. Here we have 
to deal especially with outward intuitions, and we therefore take the 
material of the exercises from the outer world which surrounds the child. 



382 INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 

These school intuitions do not indemnify the direct intuition and 
life of the child in the world. We suppose the child to have lived 
in the world six years of this life. He brings with him an endless 
number of intuitions. These we join closely together, refer to them 
and others which will be formed, and raise what is contemplated to 
clear consciousness. The instruction is here a reminding* and cloth- 
ing of ideas in appropriate words and sentences. 

In this respect a country child has manifold advantages over one 
of a city, especially one of a large city. The former has seen the 
natural world by which he is surrounded, and its thousand occur- 
rences, the remarkable periodicity of the seasons — the sowing, 
planting, growing, &c. ; while the latter, poor child, knows nothing 
but the rooms, the houses, and the streets. The first, for example, 
has observed the birds, how they fly, eat, build nests, feed their young, 
&c. ; the latter knows, perhaps, the canary bird in its cage, and the 
birds which are sold in market. Nature's child possesses real prac- 
tical knowledge, the town child can readily say this, or that, of what 
he has seen. Consequently the country child is more thoughtful, the 
town child more voluble. An untold advantage favors the former, 
and the difference will never be obliterated. The inhabitant of the 
city, by his volubility and cleverness, thinks to surpass the inhabitant 
of the village or country. But let them be examined in things of 
practical life, in the practical capacity of judging correctly. In con- 
sequence of this men are selected from the immediate practical walks 
of life to preside in the courts of large cities, in order to secure real 
experience and practical views in the highest tribunals of the country. 
The most advantageous relations will be formed for a child, who is 
to have the benefit of higher culture, by changing his country life at 
the age of twelve years, for that of the town or city. 

Therefore — whenever it is possible, there should first be observa- 
tion of life and nature, and afterwards reflection till every perception 
is brought into the realm of a clear consciousness. In school we 
make up, as far as possible, what was neglected in life.f 

* It is the usual delusion of the retlection, arrogating all wisdom to itself, that it thinks to 
have discovered something by speculation, or to have demonstrated something new, when in 
fact it has only developed it, or at the most brought it to consciousness. Fichte, " The idea 
of personality," 1834, p. 112. 

t " There is only one learning, one hearing and perception, one producing and one repro- 
ducing, one illumination and one illustrating, one having and being, one life, cultivation, 
existence, and experience, and that is life in childhood." 

" A nail, a young sparrow and its beating heart in my hand, a fish taken out of the net and 
touched— taken hold of at any price with all ten fingers, with twenty, provided we had that 
number ; that was a magnetism, it gave a clear perception." 

The above quotations are from Goltz's valuable book, page 156 In the same work, page 
138, is found, a poem of " Hay and Straw," from the experience of childhood. He is to be 



INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 3g3 

Real objects will be presented to the senses of the younger cbil- 
dren. They will be looked upon and contemplated, and what is 
looked upon and contemplated will be talked about. The teacher 
directs the attention of the children, he makes use of interrogatory 
instruction, and the children reply in a clear, precise manner, in sin- 
gle sentences, and with correct accent. Seeing, hearing, and speak- 
ing are united. The untrammeling of the speech is the principal 
thing outwardly. For this reason, incompleteness of expression, in- 
articulate enunciation, answering in a suppressed voice, or in single 
words, should not be tolerated. Marks or signs which the pupils do 
not understand, will be made known to them after they have acquired 
the lively direct intuition of them in the complexity of their uses. 
First, the idea, then the word expressing it. Speaking singly and 
speaking in concert, or by divisions, may occur alternately. Each 
sentence is to repeated by a single scholar until it is perfectly and 
completely expressed, when it may again be repeated in concert. 
The logical object word must be rendered distinctly prominent. It is 
well to make use of signals, on the principle that all unnecessary 
speaking be dispensed with. The teacher of course should always 
have every pupil in sight. The first name pronounced, (Fred !) de- 
signates the pupil who is to answer a question which was addressed 
to the entire school. Each pupil prepared for answering, raises his 
index finger. The raising of the same finger by the teacher is a 
sign that the scholar is to repeat the answer on account of inar- 
ticulate expression, or some other defect. A semicircular motion 
with the finger is the signal for a class to speak, and a circular 
movement, the sign for all the pupils to speak, non-commissioned 
officer like. 

It is said that we are indebted for these useful exercises to the Pes- 
talozzian school. Pestalozzi himself chose for the material of intui- 
tion the living human body, from which he composed his known 
" Book for Mothers,''^ So called because he wished to introduce these 
exercises to the sitting room. We must differ from this ; we can 

called happy who in his youth received impressions such as this man did, and for which he 
is indebted to life in the country and his own peculiar nature, hence, mostly to nature. Such 
an unconscious, direct, rich life, prepares the soil for most productive harvests. "It is noth- 
ing according to the ideas of grown up people. But children feel and perceive with heavenly 
instinct the world at every point and in every moment as one whole, and God in it as in his 
own personality. Here I found the elementary material in abundance for which my nature 
so yearningly longed. There were on account of the Baltic Sea, near by, hasty changes in 
the weather and heavenly metamorphoses all the year, which greatly exalted my imagination 
and influenced my destiny. This was life to me !" Goltz, p. 157. 

" Such deep intuitional life, such immediateness • Or shall we laboriously change the clear 
gold of intuition for the paper currency of book definitions, and gain in life's length what we 
lose in its depth? Heine's "Scenes of Travels,'-' II., p. 126. 



384 INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 

not, according to the precedence of other pedagogues and from nearly 
related surrounding principles, approve of the exclusive selection of the 
human body. It is more agreeable to the purpose to choose the ob- 
jects to be contemplated from the surroundings of school and every- 
day life. Hence w^e seek the unity of the exercises, not in the unity 
or uniformity of the object, but in the unity of the end, in the unity 
of the method of treating and of varying the multiplied and produced 
materials. Modern authors in this department choose either regu- 
larly shaped bodies, or a house, or a model of a house, or objects of 
the school-room, or of its adjacent surroundings ; plants, animals, ob- 
jects of art, pictures, &c. The principal end may be attained through 
every one of these objects. Absolute necessity exists not in the 
materials. 

More important than all means of instruction, is the apprehending 
and accomplishing ; a view, which vindicates itself ever more and 
more, that all instruction, without exception, must be based on intui- 
tion. This heretofore presented thought deserves to be again recom- 
mended most impressively to teachers. He misapprehends who is of 
the opinion that, when with beginners he has used pictures and era- 
ployed speaking lessons, he has fully satisfied the intrinsic demand of 
intuitional exercises. It is a principle in the instruction of youth, in 
universal instruction, also in every activity of the educator, that every 
thing which is to be actively and impressively felt, known, and 
wished, must have certain events and experiences, and an immediate- 
ness for its foundation.* Shallow perception, that which is heard, 
learned, and perceived according to words, answers not, develops not ; 
but injures, produces a meager school knowledge, empty notions, a 
work of words, saps life, and injures the vitality and soundness of the 
soul. 

That so much instruction remains without fruit up to this hour, is 
chiefly owing to its wholly unintuitive nature. Think only of the 
character of much of the instruction in language and religion ! In. 
the former the pupil is tormented with empty forms, and in the latter 
with hollow ideas. Exercises of this character are very deleterious. 
Few men ever again return to a fresh green life, after being driven 
into the world of abstract ideas by their youthful training. Nowhere 
is this danger greater than in the German nation. Only look around 

* 1 " What sensation is to the will, namely, basis and source, direct source of the true, thd 
good, and the beautiful, that is the intuition, the intuitive, direct recognizing to the intellect." 
Iloflfmeisler in his '■'■Schiller," III., p. 100. 

2. "Only that \s real, objective t/iin/ein^, which designates and ratifies itself through sen- 
tient intuition. That thinking is true and corresponds to the nature of the reality which \» 
awakened by intuition." I,. Feuerbach, " Philosophy of the Future," p. 74. 



INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES 

385 

you and seek tlie explanation of much of the transcendental phenom- 
ena of our day.* But we continue the subject. 

All religious instruction must begin with what is already known to 
the child, experienced by him, with what is immediate. And if it 
must begin here, surely all other teaching should be based upon the 
same principle. A life-awakening religious instruction joins piety and 
the relations which exist in the lively emotions of the child with the 
parent; also joins faith toward God with faith toward the parent, 
love to God with love to the parent ; 'sin against the commandments' 
of God with the consciousness of the child that he has not always 
obeyed the will of his parent ; justification before God with repent- 
ance and improvement toward the parent, and forgiveness on those 
conditions, &c. These and similar experiences induce reflection • 
one's own life is rendered more intelligible. It is then impossible for 
us to be lost in the desert of school ideas. Some extracts from 
Beneke are here appropriate. 

" The truthfulness, intuitiveness, and efficaciousness of a universal 
rule, originate only from self-experienced or, at least, clearly repre- 
sented and impressively felt individual incidents. If from the begin- 
ning it be only abstractly formed, it will lack harmony and proportion 
and tend at best to make us self-conceited, to be vain of a knowledo-e 
of whicl} in truth we know nothing, and of which we can only arro- 
gantly and audaciously prate. But where it concerns the application 
to special relations it will leave us in a dilemma." 

"The child can associate with words only that of which he has an 
ideal. So long therefore as he fails to apprehend his intellectual ac- 
tivities, his sensibilities, the endeavors of his will, and his opinions 
the words referring to them will be mere empty sounds. If his atten- 
tion is frequently directed to words only, he will acquire the habit 
either of thoug htlessness, or an incorrect use of them, because he im- 

* The newest philosophy of the fifth .lecennium of ,he nineteen.h century agrees with ^. 

tTdtefrr h°7" " "" ' ""' ''"°^^" ""^^ '"^ '™'hs, to which this Lsairea^; devo- 
ted Itself for half a century. Feuerbach, in 1843, advances this thesis • 

"The essential instruments, organs of philosophy, are the head, Ihe source of activity ot 

hberty, of metaphyseal infini.y, of idealism ; and .he heart the seat of suffering, of fin ude 

of necessity of sensualism ; theoretically expressed, thinking and intuition ; f'^ think gi^ 

the requisite of the head ; intuition the sense, the necessity of the heart Think 7, he 

principle of the school, of system ; intuition, the principle of life. In ^ uit^o I m d ter 

mined by objects, in thinking I determine the object; in thinking I am /, in in i i. " not / 

t.onof althnking, from the being determined by the object, from the passion from the 

stenc' "i r '"' ""'■ '"'"'"" ''''' '"^^^ °"'-^ -'^''^^ - immediately dntalwTh e. 
.stence, thinking gives .he intervening condition through discrimination and abs.rac irn from 
existence, therefore there is life and tru.h only where the condition is united wi h Le e'sU 
ence, the thinking with .he intuition, the activity with the passivity, the scho.a ic ph" i 
d ml'^a'S". '"" "'' ''^ -"-^o'astic sanguine principle of the French sens' ali^^ 



386 INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 

.properly refers the words to the outward which accidentally are con- 
nected with the intellectual ; the first of which, indeed, is all he can 
comprehend up to this period. Such abstract exercises are exceed- 
ingly dangerous." 

The danger consists in leading the pupil to regard the dry and ab- 
stract world of ideas instead of the real contents of intelligence ; and 
to adjudicate to the intellect the supremacy in life as well as in 
science, and accordingly to reject all that can not be incorporated 
into ideas. 

This was the sad result in the schools at the time when the almost 
exclusive culture of the intellect prevailed. This stand-point, for 
readily conceived reasons, we have passed in science farther than in 
life. The time has also passed when it was believed that the only 
success through the activity of the teacher rested ii the skill by which 
he developed ideas, oi' in the so called art of catechising. The ex- 
treme opponents of this opinion and tendency, believe that we need 
no catechising, no development of ideas. In opposition to this, we 
say, every development is important, indeed the chief ability of the 
teacher consists in developing and therefore also in catechising;* but 
not in developing ideas, but intuitions and in his efficiency to awaken 
lively intuitions in the pupils. The teacher who would meet the 
demands of the present, must direct his efforts toward this end. 
Hence, not Dinter, or Pestalozzi, but Pestalozzi and Dinter ! 

Two questions are yet to be answered. 1. By what is instruction 
to be illustrated and enlivened, how is it to be learned ? 2. Which 
or what different intuitions are to be called forth in the scholar, from 
what field do we take the-m ? 

First question. Very many teachers think the illustrations can be 
learned from books. But what are books? They in themselves 
furnish nothing more than a guidance to the treatment of the intui- 
tions, where then are the intuitions themselves ? These are not iu 
lifeless books, but only in life. To this then we must refer the 
teacher. Look into life, into nature, into society, into the world of 
small and great men, into yourself; "keep your eyes open !" " Non 
scholae sed vitaj," said the old teachers, and mostly the humanists. 
It was a phrase blindly submitted to the tyrant "custom," in a dry 
abstract time. It was of no avail. The agitators themselves served 
the abstract knowledge, the dead learning, and, what they least an- 
ticipated (still considering it an offence,) materialism. Their business 

• "He who banishes this method, catechising and examining, from the school, takes the 
sun from the world." Trotzendorf, in PuhlcopPs " History of the Condition of Schools and 
Sducatiofij {Ge^chichte des Schul-und Erziehungswesens)," by Bremen, 1794, 



INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 387 

was to educate renowned men, renowned lawyers, renowned pliiloso- 
phers, renowned theologians, renowned philologists. Renowned- 
learned — this gives the key. 

Teacher, do you desire therefore to teach for the life ? Then sink 
yourself into the life, into the life of the present, not into the past 
•which was and has perished. Let the active life enter into you, expose 
yourself to its eilfects, retire from the study and take part in the drama 
of life as raultilaterally as possible, gaining therefrom acquisitions for 
your purposes in life and in your profession. You are the man, you 
are the intuition of your scholars, by your lively intuitions you will 
learn to illustrate. Books can show you the instructive method, but 
can not give you the intuitions themselves. No book can supply the 
(missing) life.* Goethe teacl>es this when he says, " What I have 
"not learned from fOoks, I have acquired by traveling. That which 
has been carefully observed can afterwards be reflected uj)on and 
judged. A decided exercise of the eye is necessary, and there must 
first be an observation in order to call forth an inquiry. I must bring 
it thus far, that every thing may become intuitive knowledge, and 
nothing remain traditional and nominal. I, too, am for the truth, 
but for the truth of the five senses. I am a mortal enemy of word 
sounds. Nature, indeed, is the only book that offers intrinsic merit 
on every page, &c." 

Second question. What kind of intuitions ? Which should you 
awaken, and from what field ? Whence have you to take them ? 
Let us consider the difterent kinds and enumerate them : 

1. Sentient intuitions ; not only mediated by the senses, but given 
through them directly — outward intuitions. 

2. Mathematical ; ideas of space, time, number, and motion — also 
belonging to the outer world, not given directly by the senses, but 
mediated by them. 

* " It is very remarkable. Every body insists that the teacher should educate for the life, 
not for the school. Hence he must Ifnow the life and consequently reflect upon it, <fec. And 
yet every body is allowed to express an opinion concerning life rather than the teacher. But 
we vindicate for him what Rosenkrantz claims for philosophers. The philosopher, espec- 
ially, must not concern himself about every absurdity that would not only contest his right to 
have an opinion about public affairs, but also to openly express it. The philosopher may not 
be Informed in a thousand details which belong to the special departments of knowledge ; 
but this must not deter him from exercising the Critic of Pure Reason in regard to universal 
laws. Among the old philosophers it was considered right, when they not only concerned 
themselves about the theory of the state in which they lived, but also about its practical 
workings. And for this they are still commended ; these thinkers were not abstract cosmo- 
politans, but real patriots. But are modern philosophers no longer allowed to be patriots ? 
Has not Schelling, however, recently declared to the welcome surprise of all his auditors, 
that time and philosophy have advanced to you questions of life, to which no one is permit- 
ted, nay, it is not possible for any one to be indifferent." Rosenkrantz, ^'Sketches of Koe- 
nigsberg," Danzig, 1842, 1., p. 11. 



388 INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 

3. Moral ; arising to mankind by the appearance of virtuous life. 

4. Religious ; those arising in man when he directs his mind 
toward God. 

5. ^sthetical ; from the beautiful and sublime appearance in na- 
ture and in the life of man, presentations of art. 

6. Pure human ; those referring to the nobler individual relations 
of mankind — in love, fidelity, friendship, &c. 

V. Social ; that which represents the associations of mankind as a 
unit — in corporations, in communities, and in states. 

The school can not furnish all these intuitions according to their 
varied difference and full extent. It can not supplant life, it pre- 
supposes it, joins itself to life and leads toward it. But the school 
attracts whatever objects fall within the range of its influence, engages 
itself with them, and through this versatility lays the foundation of' 
all intelligence. 

1. The sentient intuitions refer to the material world and the 
changes in it. The pupil should as much as possible see and hear 
for himself, should use all his senses in seeking for the peculiarities of 
objects, on, in, or above the earth ; minerals, plants, beasts ; man and 
bis works ; sun, moon, and stars ; physical phenomena, &c. 

2. Mathematical intuitions unfold themselves from the sensual 
through easy and nearly related abstractions ; the idea of extensions 
in space on all sides, of extensions of time succeeding each other, 
the idea of number, how much, the idea of motion, the idea of changes 
in space, and the passing through the same. The simplest of these 
ideas is that of space, the others, therefore, can be illustrated by this 
in using points, lines, and surfaces. The means for illustrating instruc- 
tion in numbers, are points, lines and their parts, and bodies and their 
parts. 

3. The moral intuitions are obtained by the scholar, through man- 
kind, through life with its relations, through playmates and teacher 
in school. These of course are inner intuitions, which, however, in- 
corporate themselves in the countenance, in the eye, and in the 
language. The main point here, as elsewhere, is the individual ex- 
perience of the pupil. Happy is the child that is surrounded by only 
jiure moral men, whose characters mold the moral foundation of his 
own life. Moral deeds from history may be vividly and impressively 
presented by the teacher through the living word of the eloquent 
tongue and the affected heart, 

4. Religious intuitions are attained by contemplating nature, its 
beneficent influences and phenomena, by the piety and prayers of 
parents, by the holy meditations of the congregation in public wor- 



INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 339 

ship, by sacred songs in school, by religious instruction in school and 
church, by religiously disposed teachers and faithful clergymen, by 
scriptural history, &c. 

5. The sesthetical intuitions are awakened by viewing the sublinae 
and beautiful in nature ; flowers, trees, crystals, stars, the heavens, 
the ocean, rock and mountain ; landscapes, storm and tempest ; ob- 
jects of art ; statues, pictures, paintings, edifices, and productions of 
poetical and oratorical art. In the classification of the moral, aesthet- 
ical, &c., their specific difference may be disputed. But I consider it 
better to arrange them under a special category. The stern, moral 
law applying uniformly to all men, does not embrace them all in its 
province, for they can not absolutely be required. The contents of the 
sesthetical belong to the beautiful, free, human development which is 
dependent on conditions unsuited to the tastes of every one. 

6. The so called pure human intuitions* refer to a noble formed 
life of individual men, the character of which surpasses the strictest 
idea of morals and duty, and relates to sympathetic inclinations, as 
friendship and love, sympathy and participation, and other excellent 
characteristics of the elevated human life as they are met with in the 
refined development and culture of eminent pure men. Well for the 
child who shares these ! If the family accomplishes nothing in this 
direction, it will be difficult to supply the deficiency. The teacher 
should do his utmost to remedy this defect, by his deportment in the 
school-room and by his general appearance. 

v. The social intuitions, that is, those of the social condition out- 
side of the family, come to the child through the phenomena of social 
intercourse in school, in church, in public meetings, and at public fes- 
tivities ; and afterwards through history, by which the living intuitions 
of the teacher, from the associations of states, people, and wars, im- 
press the pupils with the most lively representations and images of 
larger corporations. Our earlier, so familiar private life, renders diflS- 
cult the source of these important, yet uncommon, intuitions. How 
can he who has no experience understand history ? How can he who 
has never seen people possess a living image of them and of their 

* Their special difference can be disputed, considering them under the heads of the moral, 
sesthetical, &c. But, I deem it more correct, to make a particular category of them, for the 
reason that greater attention will be paid to their nature. The severe moral law applicable 
to all mankind, in an equal degree, does not embrace them in its deparlment, they can not be 
implicitly required of every body. They belong to the free, beautiful, human development, 
and are entirely dependent upon conditions not agreeable to every one's tastes— thus how- 
ever showing the divinity in mankind. "The universal human nature in the pure human 
intuitions in the formation of a noble family life which finds sympathy in every pure heart, 
whether adorned by star or badge, or covered by the coarsest and plainest garment, is divine. 
The origin of every human being is divine." Egbert in, "Traits of Character,^' &c. From 
Frederick Wilhelm, III., p. 481. 



390 INTUITIONAL AND SPEAKING EXERCISES. 

life? Small republics have infinite preferences in this respect, and 
also in relation to the intuitions of a public life and for patriotic senti- 
ment. Language, even the most eloquent, gives only a vague and 
unsatisfactory substitute for these intuitions. The year 1848 dis- 
closed in Germany, a present and prospective progress in this direction. 

From all this is made manifest the importance of the life, the in- 
telligence, the stand-point, and the character of the teacher for the 
founding of living intuitions in the soul, in the intellect, and in the 
heart of his pupils. We can never awaken to a lively intuition in 
another that which is not a living intuition in ourselves. Therefore 
it is of the greatest importance that the teacher himself has seen, ob- 
served, experienced, investigated, lived, and thought as much as 
possible ; and erected for himself an ideal in moral, in religious, in 
sesthetical, in purely human, and in social relations. Just as much 
as he is, just so much is the worth of his instruction. He himself is 
to the scholar the most instructive^ the most impressive object of 
intuition. 

It is the business of the teacher to introduce and to found the rela- 
tion of the scholar to the subject of instruction. He is the mediating 
person between both, which were originally strangers to each other. 
The scholar should self-actively appropriate the intuitions to himself. 
This presupposes that the teacher from whom originates every thing, 
is able to awaken self-activity. He can accomplish this, only to the 
extent of his ability to awaken in the scholar an active desire for 
learning. The respect, affections, and obedience of pupils are won 
by the teacher's love for them and for his profession, remaining 
knowledge of the subject and methodical powers presupposed ; and 
through these the pupils' disposition to submit to his guidance the 
tendency toward the object of instruction, is secured. In this man- 
ner attentiveness and the love of knowledge, the first condition of a 
successful progress, is attained ; and the remaining conditions, the 
most important of which is the awakening of self-activity in the pupil, 
will follow of themselves through methodical treatment by the 
teacher. 



INSTRUCTION IN GERMAN* 



BV RUDOLF VON RAUMER. 



PREFACE TO THE FIRST AND SECOND EDITIONS. 

When my father requested me to write upon the subject of instraction in 
German, and its historj', I did not foresee the great difficulties which would 
stand in the way of such an undertaking. Instruction in the native language, 
like that in religion, is given in all grades and kinds of schools ; which is alone 
enough to make its discussion within a limited space difficult. But there are 
other obstacles of a quite peculiar nature. Instruction in German deals with a 
subject which is constantly changing with the course of time. Not only does 
our knowledge of the subject change, and our mode of dealing with it, but the 
subject itself changes. The written German language, which is that now 
taught in our schools, has become what it is during the last three or four cen- 
turies; and thus the history of instruction in German can not be disjoined from 
that of written German. And this becomes still less possible when we con- 
sider how great and how obvious is the influence which that instruction has had 
upon the written German. Still, no one will expect here a comprehensive and 
universal history of the written German. "What is required is, an account of 
the mutual influence of the living German language and the method in which it 
has been tauglit. The records of this influence are the works on German gram- 
mar. But as my subject is instruction in German, the discussion of language 
proper must occupy a subordinate place, and that of the methods used in teach- 
ing it, must become proportionately prominent. Tliis is no easy task ; both by 
reason of the great extent of the subject and of the small knowledge of it 
which I possessed. I had also to treat my subject in such a manner as to be 
intelligible to a reader who could not refer to the books I migiit quote. For a 
large proportion of the works to which I was obliged to refer were such as 
would be familiar to but few of my readers. Of the most important of these I 
have given the titles in full ; not so much for the sake of the literary man, who 
could find the book in a large library from a' much shorter title, as for the s^ke 
of the majority of my readers who probably may never see the book itself, and 
to whom the titles, as characteristic of its form and matter, will be of great 
value. 

The kindness of friends in Berlin, Gottingen, Leipzig «id Munich, has 
enabled me to use at Erlangen books from the libraries at those places. During 
a stay of several weeks at Berlin, the liberality of Chief Librarian Pertz, and 
the great kindness of Dr. Pinder, to whom I would offer in return my most sin- 
cere thanks, opened to me the rich treasures of the Royal Library there, not- 
withstanding that it was a season of vacation. Bibliographical researches, pro- 

* Translated for Barnard's ".itwericare Joumai of Education" from Raumer's ^'■History, 
of Pedagogy," 4th edition. 



392 INSTRUCTION IN 

perly so called, were of course not within the limits of my field of labor. I 
trust that the close connection will be recognized that exists between the few 
materials of this nature which I have inserted, and the subject of the work. I 
have mentioned the places where I have found books not easily attainable 
■everywhere ; which will doubtless be a convenience to many persons. 

The statement of my views upon the present condition of affairs has often 
thrown me into antagonism with very wide-spread opinions. But upon a sub- 
ject so important, I have thought it my duty to state my convictions without 
any concealment. If any one should feel injured by any thing which I have said, 
I desire to assure him that I have never attacked persons, but opinions only. 
And I think I have sufiSciently demonstrated this, by sometimes most fully coin- 
ciding with the views of those whom I have in other points opposed. 

I have felt obhged to refrain from entering into details, except in speaking of 
the common schools and the gymnasia. My reason for not entering into the 
question of instruction in German in the Higher Burgher Schools is, that views 
upon this recent and important class of institutions are still so unsettled, that it 
would be requisite to ascertain the general principles involved, before dealing 
with any single subject of instruction ; a preliminary which would lead me into 
an entirely different field. Upon many points, the observations on the gymna- 
sia express my views on the higher burgher schools, of course; that is, with the 
proper modifications. Upon other points I should have been glad to submit my 
opinions to some experienced judge. Such is the case especially respecting the 
study of the Old German ; which seems to me quite as important for the higher 
burgher schools as for the gymnasium, though to a different extent. That is, I 
think that the learned education which the gymnasium gives, renders it indis- 
pensable to go back to the Gothic and Old High German ; while I believe it 
correct to go no further, in the higher burgher schools, than the Middle High 
German ; and that this dialect should be studied, in those schools, about in the 
manner and to the extent indicated in Philip Wackernagel's '^Gems of German 
Foetry and Wisdom.''^* 

But I will not seek to anticipate what can only be intelligible when my whole 
book is read. I will conclude by expressing the wish that my work may con- 
tribute something to the promotion of a healthy sentiment of patriotism, 

Eklaxgen, October 10th, 1851. 

PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. 

The title of this edition indicates that it is "enlarged and improved." These 
enlargements and improvements wiU be found not so much in the first as in the 
second book of this work. There was of course an abundance of materials for 
the enlargement of the historical part of it. But the same reasons which in- 
duced me, in the first edition, to limit the historical portion of my work within 
the .narrowest possible space, for fear of diminishing the intelligibility of the 
main portion of my discussion, have still prevented me from enlarging that part 
of the work. But in the second book, on the other hand, more than one passage 
required amplification. I hope that I have succeeded, without interfering with 
that brevity which the character of the work requires, in rendering many parts 
of it more intelligible and correct than in the previous editions. 

I have already more than once said that I did not pretend to decide by my 

* '^Edelsteinen deutscker Dichtung und Weisheit" 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 393 

now single authority the innumerable practical questions which this vast field 
includes ; and that I would on the contrary thankfully receive any intelligent 
advice. And I feel myself under obligations to return my sincere thanks for 
the profound and instructive observations which have already reached me from 
the most various quarters since the appearance of my previous editions; whether 
through public channels," by letter, or orally. Of these observations I could of 
course make use only so far as I found myself convinced by them. I have en- 
deavored to "try all things;" whether I have been able to "hold fast that 
which is good " only, I can not say. 

The mass of works on German grammar, reading, style, &c., lias become an 
almost unbounded flood. While employed upon my first edition I examined a 
great number of such books; and have industriously endeavored to make my- 
self acquainted with the best which have appeared since. But although I my- 
self possess a respectable number of books in this department, and have also 
had the use of several good school libraries, I am still far from pretending to a 
complete knowledge of my materials. Nor do I believe that it is practicable to 
attain it. For it will be found no very trifling task to examine carefully even 
the best of the German school grammars alone ; as I can testify from experi- 
ence. In obtaining a general view of the subject, I have received much aid 
from the periodicals devoted to it; such as the ''New Year-hook of Philology and 
Pedagogy;'* "MuizelVs Journal of the Gymnasia;'^ the ''Gazette for the Austrian 
Gymnasia;'^ "Herrig's Archives for the Study of the Modern Languages;^ and 
many others. But even if all this mass of materials had been gone through, 
would this render the student a master of them? Would not the authors of the 
books in question say that mere reading will not test a school-book ; that noth- 
ing but practical experiment with it in a school can decide upon its value ? It 
must be allowed that there is some truth in the claim. But the very impossi- 
bility of doing this— for who could use all the German school grammars ?— 
shows that in order to pronounce a sound practical opinion on the subjects in 
question, even the most thorough apprehension of its principles will not suffice 
without aid from the experience of others. 

I have in this edition endeavored to go somewhat more into detail on some 
practical points. The only difficulty in doing so is, that it is necessary to handle 
them in a general manner, while in practice the principles have to be applied to 
an infinite variety of cases. This is peculiarly true of a subject which ramifies 
within all the departments of life so universally as instruction in the native 
language. For example, what I say of German grammar in the common 
schools, will in practice require the most various limitations and expansions. 
The special purpose of each individual school must decide how much is to be 
done by mere practice, and how much by discussions on grammatical subjects. 
It must not be supposed that the mere distinction between city schools and coun- 
try schools will here suffice. For the differences between different city schoolb 
are very various. Nor can any general rule on the point be applied to country 
schools either. In these, every thing depends on the situation and needs of each 
particular district. In like manner, important distinctions must be observed be- 

* "Nems Jahrbuch fur Philologie und Paedagogik." 
t "MvlzKll's Zeitschrift fiir das Gymnasialieisen." 
X "Zcirschriftfnr die Hslcrreichischen Gymnasicn." 
%"Herrig'e Archil- fur das Studivm dn- neiterem Sprache." 



394 INSTRUCTION IN 

tween the modes of teaching their native language to boys and to girls. All 
these questions I have considered from a few principal points of view, leaving 
their further development to the reader. 

I may venture to hope that it will not be forgotten that in the second book, 
each chapter presupposes a knowledge of what has been said in the previous 
ones. Such portions, therefore, as that on the later provisions for studying Ger- 
man in the teachers' seminaries, and that on the higher burgher schools, ought 
not to be read out of their connection ; for both of them presuppose a knowl- 
edge of the chapters before them. 

But I must provide against an en-or much more important than this ; for 
which I have given no occasion, but to which a strong tendency prevails at the 
present day. The German language is a subject dealt with throughout all in- 
stitutions of instruction, from the lowest to the highest. It is tliis which makes 
it so important a study. But it would be an error to suppose that, because it is 
tauglit everywhere, it must be treated in the same way everywhere. The 
method, and also the extent, of instruction in it, must be adapted to the attain- 
ments of the scholar. This of course makes it necessary to consider what are 
the proper purposes of the lower, middle, and higher grades of schools ; al- 
though it has been reckoned a degradation to those of the lower grade, that 
they have not been permitted to interfere with those departments of instruction 
which are appropriate to the higher. But this notion is the consequence of 
wrong ideas of the essential nature of real culture, and of the moral value of 
human employments. True culture is not to be promoted by superficial study 
of subjects too difficult, prematurely and at the wrong place ; but by studying 
appropriate things in the right way. And in like manner, the dignity of the 
teacher does not depend upon the subject which he teaches, but upon the con- 
scientiousness with which he teaches it. No intelligent teacher, therefore, will 
feel himself undervalued by a proper discussion of the question what studies are 
and what are not suitable to the age and the attainments of his pupils. And 
those very teachers whose vocation it is to labor in the very highest depart- 
ments of human culture, will be most deeply penetrated with a conviction of 
the immeasurable importance of universal popular instruction. 

I have also given special attention, in the present edition, to instruction in 
German at the gymnasia. The German language is the tie which connects the 
learned classes with the remainder of the people ; and this is the reason that the 
mode in which it is taught at the gymnasium and the university is so important. 

For the learned classes are the standard which determines the extent and 
method of instruction in it, in all grades of institutions. We shall always, 
therefore, in considering the subject find ourselves brought back to the institu- 
tions of learning, properly so called, however highly we may value the unques- 
tionably important object of the improvement of the education of our laboring 
classes. 

KUDOLF VON RaUMEB. 

Erlangen, March 2, 1857. 

NOTE. 

The relations of instruction in German to other studies has often been referred to in the 
previous volumes of Raunier's '■'Pedagogy f while the nature of their conlenis did not permit 
a detailed account of the methods pursued in teaching that language; as such an account must 
be very closely connected with the history of German grammar. The present chapter is in- 
tended to slietch the most important points of that history. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 395 



L HISTORY OF GERMAN GRAMMAR, WITH REFERENCE TO SCHOOL INSTRUCTION 
IN GERMAN, FROM THE END OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 

CHAPTER I. — SIXTEKNTH CENTURY. 

Latin and German, A. D. 1500. 

The grammatical treatment of the German language did not 
grow up, as did that of the Greek, exclusively upon its native soil, 
and from native roots. As in so many other departments, the Ger- 
mans have made use in that of grammar also, of the rich inheritance 
which they received from classical antiquity. The Greeks had dis- 
covered the grammatical categories of their language, its most im- 
portant distinctions, the inflections of its words, a thousand years be- 
fore the study of grammar was thought of in Germany, The dis- 
coveries of the Greeks were industriously and perseveringly applied 
by the Romans to their language ; and thus it happened that they 
descended, along with the Latin language, in the grammatical writers 
of the perishing classical ages, to the Germanic nations. 

The grammatical knowledge thus acquired, was at first, however, 
not used as a means of investigating the German language. The 
Latin grammarians were employed only in studying the Latin lan- 
guage. For many centuries, Latin was, in Germany, the peculiar 
language of members of the learned professions. First, the church 
took measures to make Latin, already tlie language of religion, of the 
Vulgate, and of the Romish See. that also of the whole clergy.* And 
when the use of the vulgar tongue began to force itself more and 
more into' religious aftairs, the learned men endeavored in their turn 
to extend the domain of the language of ancient Latium, and to ex- 
clude the vulgar tongue, if possible, from the sphere of higher educa- 
tion. This second period of the universal authority of the Latin 
coincides with the beginning of the modern era of German grammar.f 
The rise and progress of the latter during the sixteenth century can 
not therefore be understood without a previous view of the Latin 
learning of that period.J 

It was the openly expressed intention of the schoolmen of that 

* See R. von Raumer. "Influence of Christianity on the Old High German " (Einwirkung 
des Christ enthums auf die Al'hochdeut.iche Sprache)." Stutttrart, 1845, p. 201. 

tl do not here delay lo refer to the labors bestowed on the German language at an earlier 
period, especially by Abbot Notker of St. Gall, who died about A. D. 10Q2. 

}The reader may find in the first volume of this history, especially in the chapter upon 
Johannes Sturm, a clear account of the Latin school instruction of the sixteenth century. 



396 INSTRUCTION IN 

day, entirely to exclude the German language from the schools and 
from learning. They meant Latin to be the only received language 
of schools, if possible even in the very lowest classes. But since, to 
the great disgust of many excellent rectors of schools, the children 
had some intercourse with the world, not in the school, but at home, 
they continued as before to learn their native language first. And in 
order to make them understand it was necessary to degrade one's self 
to the point of talking German with them. The strenuous endeavors 
of many teachers to drive German out of even the lower classes, 
while the German children kept coming into them all the time, re- 
minds us of the countryman in Horace, waiting on the bank of the 
river until it shall run down; '■'■ at ille labitur, et labetur in omne 
volubilis aevum."" 

However great the care taken to make school-boys disuse as quickly 
as possible the despised and hated German, still new pupils must first 
be furnished with the Latin phrases most necessary for ordinary con- 
versation. A clear conception of the mode in which this was done 
may be gathered from the elementary school books of the end of the 
fifteenth century. A volume in the Scheurl library at Nuremberg 
contains several such books. One of them is entitled "^ Method of 
Latinity {Modus Latinitatis)P It has at the end this colophon : 
" The end of a new grammar, adapting in the most elegant manner 
the Latin equivalents to the vulgar tongue ; with various selections 
{fioaculis) of words and sentences, and important differences of idiom 
{differentiis notatu digniis). Put forth by that venerable and acute 
man Udalric Ebrardt. Anno 1488."* The author evidently ad- 
dressses boys already able to speak Latin ; for he begins by saying to 
the boys that his design is to correct for them, who seem almost 
rather infants without speech, than competent to talk, the very vulgar 
barbarisms which he hears them using in their ordinary familiar con- 
versation ; such as saying mulus (a barbarous Latinized form of the 
old mwZ, modern German maul., mouth) for os, and so on. But at the 
same time he deals with his subject so as to make the book useful to 
the teacher, as well as to the tyro. The work is not really a gram- 
mar, but a German-Latin phrase book, with the German forms first, 
and the Latin equivalents following. At the beginning are the sim- 
plest salutations: "Good day. Bona dies. Or perhaps more ele- 
gantly. Bonus dies. For, &c. Good evening. Bonum sero. Or 
rather, more elegantly, Bonum vesper. For, (fec."f " Your very best 

♦The date is given in words, followed by " Praise to the most merciful God (Laus Deo 
clementissimo)." Then follows a single leaf with miscellaneous Latin rules. 
1 1 can not bestow much space on this material, and therefore only add in passing that the 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 397 

health. Salus phcrima.'''' And so on. Then come the simplest 
questions and answers : " How old are you?" &c., proceeding to more 
extended phrases, but still such as are used in common conversation. 
In a second part, the author ai-ranges phrases of a higher grade, 
classified by their meaning, in thirteen parts, the German, as before, 
standing first, and the Latin after it. For instance : " Virgil is not 
comparable to Homer. Virgilius cum homero 7ion comparandus est. 
JVon 2^2/ to homei-o poete huic clarissimo virgilium imrem esse^ etc ;" 
and so on, down to the colophon already given. 

The volume in the Scheurl library contains several such books. 
One, beginning "^c? patrem, to the father," consists of examples on 
the Latin prepositions, with the German words printed over the 
Latin. One is entitled '•'■Small grammar for the instruction of the 
young, with a German translation.''''^ Notwithstanding its title, 
however, this is still not a grammar, but, as more correctly designated 
in the second title, " Tract called grammatellus, containing facetious 
sayings, and by reason of the obtuseness of young pupils (pb scolari- 
culorumque hcbetatem) put beneath a German translation." Another 
work in the same volume, entitled ''■Rudiments of grammar for hoys. 
Most carefully selected from Bemigiits, Donatus and Alexander^''\ is 
without any German translation ; and another, called '■'■Juvenile exer- 
cises on Lonatus,^''^ contains but a few German words. 

I have enumerated more in detail the contents of this collected 
volume, because it gives us so very satisfactory an account of the 
literary helps by means of which its first owner, the celebrated 
Christoph Scheurl, (born 1481,) when a boy, exchanged his native 
German for the Latin. The next step to these books was, the inser- 
tion in the Latin Grammars proper, of an interlinear German version. 
This also' became the practice during the fifteenth century ; when it 
became usual to print, above the very much altered text of Donatus,§ 
a verbatim German translation.]! 

author however makes a defence for liis Bonum sero. And compare on this point Rudolf 
Agricola, in this History, Vol. I., p. 82, (of the German). 

* Grammatellus pro iuue7ium eruditione cum glosa nlmanica. 

t Radiinenia gia?nmatice ad pueros. De Remigio Donato Alexandrogue studiosissime 
lec/a. 

J Ptierilia super donatum. Nilrmberge Per Marciim ayrer. 

§ Compare the text of ^'■Donatus'' Latin Grammar [Donati ars grammaiica)" in Linde- 
mann'S) •^Collection of Latin Grammars (Corpus Grammaticoram Lalinorum)," Leipsic, 
1831, with that even of the Donatus of Glareanus, Augsburg, 1547 or 1550. 

II Panzer {Antiales typographici), enumerates four such Donatuses, with a German transla- 
tion, viz.,— 1. Ulm, 1497. (Annates, iu, ^0.) 2. Without place, by J. S., 1497. (Ann., \v, 
67.) Z. Per Frider. Krcuszner Nurmbergae incolam. Without date. (jl?in., iv, 388.) 4. 
Without place or date, (^nn., iv, 123.) But numbers 1 and 2, seem to be the same. A rare 
little book which W. Grimm loaned me from his private library, indicates that this mode of 
printing a German interlinear version over the Latin text of Donatus was long practiced. 



398 INSTRUCTION IN 

But the distance was greater, from such an interlinear version as 
this, merely intended to render the text of the Latin grammarians 
more comprehensible, to an intelligent use of the German mother 
tongue, with the design of making the Latin Grammar itself better 
understood. The first step in this direction was taken by Aventinus, 
in his Latin Grammar ; a work which is for this reason often men- 
tioned as the first instance of a German grammar.* The celebrated 
Bavarian historical writer, Johannes Thurnmeyer, surnamed Aventi- 
nus from Abensberg in Bavaria, his birthplace (b. 1466, d. 1534), 
was in 1512 appointed tutor of the Bavarian princes Ludwig and 
Ernst, brothers of Duke Wilhelm IV. A thorough scholar, yet a 
zealous lover of his native country, he had no hesitation in introduc- 
ing the German language even into the instruction which he gave in 
Latin Grammar. He had observed, as he himself says,f that a single 
German word will often make clear to a beginner, what the Latin cir- 
cumlocutions only made more and more obscure. Under this method, 
his noble pupils had learned as much of the Latin Grammar in eight 
months, as they could otherwise scarcely have gained in three years. 
Still, he felt obliged to make some excuses for his undertaking, when 
he published his Grammar, with German text intermingled with the 
Latin. He says in his preface, " I did not feel ashamed to make use 
of the vernacular tongue, since I had seen the same thing done by 
the most learned of the Italians ;" and he then goes on to allege the 
practical reasons already alluded to. Thus Aventinus was the first of 
the humanists of Germany who dared do thus ; or at any rate, if he 
had any predecessors, he was unconscious of it, or he would not have 
thus relied upon the example of the Italians. It is a noticeable fact 
that in this particular also it was the Italians who gave an impulse to 
the Germans. What were the Latin-Italian grammars which Aven- 
tinus had in view, we may learn from a work of the kind published 
in Venice, A. D. 1499, of which a copy exists in the Scheurl library 
at Nuremberg.^ The mixture of Italian with the Latin Grammar in 
this instance, is about half-way between that of the actual inter- 

Thisis"TAe Elements of Mlius Donatus, after the text of Henricus Glareanus ; with a 

German translation {J^lii Donati elementa, ad collationem Henrici Glareatii, una cum 
tradiectione Germanica)." M. D. L At the end it has, '■'Avgustae Vindelicorum, in aedibus 
Valcrilini Othmari. excnsum mtnse Mtirlio, Anno M.D.'XL VII." 

* Thus, ill tlie very full list of Modern High German Grammars, by H. Hoffmann, in "T'Ae 
German Philology (Die Deutsche Phitologie)," Breslau, 1836. p. 138. 

t Aventinus' •'Grammar (Grammatik),'' (published 1512,) p. 2. 

X Beginning : "/ a?« the door for the ignorant (Janua sum rudibus)." Ending : '^Inipres- 
sum Veneliis, impensis Joannis Baptistae de Scssa Mediolanensi. Anno salutis nostrae. 
M.CCCCXCIX. Die uero. XX Julii. Foeliciter." This is in a bound volume, which 
begins with the "Quoislo Sie Uno Libra " <fec. ; an Italian-German " Vocabulisla." 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 31(9 

linear version, and the circumspect use made of tlie German by 
Aventinus. 

Tlie Latin Grammar of Aventinus appeared at Augsburg in 1512, 
witlithe title, ''iWw rudimentary grammar^ most useful to the young^'' 
&c.* Its arrangement is, in general, similar to that of the editions of 
Donatus then in common use. The text proper is Latin. The fol- 
iowing examples may show how far, nevertheless, this work of Aven- 
tinus included a beginning of the grammatical treatment of the ver- 
nacular. Thus, on p. 3, we liave, '■^Dictio. A word. Ilia dictio est 
nomen cui in nostra lingua potest addi a, ut homo, a man. equus, 
a horse." And p. 38, "Z>e verbo. Ilia dictio est verburn cui in nos- 
tra lingua potest addi, I, thou, he." This is in truth a very trifling 
beginning ; and far the greater part of the German matter contained 
in the work of Aventinus, consists merely in German translations of 
the Latin examples. But the grammar of Aventinus was nevertheless 
entitled to a place, even in this brief sketch, because he was the first 
who made use of German for the explanation of the Latin grammar. 

The German Orthographisfs. 

The books thus far referied to relate primarily to Latin, and used 
the German for explaining that language. These constitute one of 
the sources to which we must look for information relating to the 
original beginnings of a German grammar. The other of these 
sources consists of a class of books which are in a certain sense quite 
opposite in character to them ; namely, the introductions to the read- 
ing and writing of Geiinan, intended for pupils unacquainted with 
Latin. This class of books includes two varieties. Those of one were 
intended as an introduction to German written coinpo.-^ition. After a 
few rules and observations on orthography and granuuar, they pass 
on to formulas for letters, legal contracts, addresses, and titles. Those 
of the other class originated in the necessity for acquainting the un- 
educated laity with German books ; and in particular with the Gt-r- 
man Bible. Among books of the tirst description, should first of all 
be named the work of Fabian F'rangk, entitled '''The method and 
qualities of the German tongue. Orthography, or the right way to 
spell in German. New Chancery, or current practical and correct 
directory fur properly preparing formal communications and letters 
to all persons. In the most condensed form. M [agister] Fabian 
Frangk.\ Tlie work appeared at Frankfurt on the Maine in 

* •^Gramatica nuua /unddmentalis iuuenibus vtilissima " &c. 

* " Tentscher Spruch Art und Eygenachafft. Orthographia, Gerecht Buuchslaebig 
I'lD the oriftinal with the o over the m, the over the a, <tc ,) Teutsch zuschreiben. Nett 



4.(0 INSTRUCTION IN 

1531 ;* and deserves atleiitiou for more than one reason. The author 
was from Asslaw in Silesia ; a Master of Arts [Freier Kunste Magis- 
ter); and a bui'gher of Buntzlaw. Frangk's preface describes the 
scope of his work. His primary object, he says, is to provide that 
those who em])loy such persons as have mastei'ed his work and who 
are employed in writing, chancery business, and writing titles, shall 
meet with no disapj)ointment.'' But although this comparatively 
subordinate object was that chiefly contemplated by the author, he 
still urges that at some time or other an actual exclusive German 
grammar should be written, as has been done for the Greek, Latin, 
and other languages. For, he says, "our own noble tongue is as 
agreeable, useful and powerful, in proportion to its extent, as any oth- 
er whatever ;" and tliere are ''among us unlearned laics, (neither 
practiced in the learned tongues nor acquainted with them), who 
place as high a value upon it as upon any other.'* 

Frangk's book is divided into two parts : orthography, (leaves 2 — 
11), and the "Chancery-book," (leaves 11 — 44). But the remarkable 
point about it is, the decided and clear distinction it makes between 
the written High Grammar, and the dialects. Frangk had listened 
with an attentive ear in his travels about the Empire, and had care- 
fully observed the peculiarities of the Franconians, Bavarians, Silesi- 
ans, "Meichssners," OberlaMders and Niederlanders. The result to 
which he thus came was, that the written language was spoken 
nowhere. Thus he observes of the vowels, "The German language, 
if properly spoken, contairs, as has been shown, six pure, three 
double, and three half-double vowels. But there is no country nor 
nation which pronounces all these correctly ; which does not in some 
way interchange or modify them.''f Frangk himself, he says, used 
the Oberland dialect. But "although this is in itself correct and 
clear, still it is in many points and parts not in agreement with the 
High German. For there is no country whatever where it has been 
so entirely pure and correct both as first spoken and as used since, 
that something needing correction or improvement can not now and 
then be traced in it."| The question, "How to learn German cor- 
rectly and purely," Frangk answers as follows: "P)Ut he who would 
avoid such errors, and would write or sjieak German corri ctly, must 
speak German according to the mode and us;ig(» of soint^ one country, 
and must not vary it after othei' dialectic forms. It will be useful and 

Cantzlei, ietz braeuchiger. gerechter Practick, Pornilichf Missincn rnd SchrifftPji an iedc. 
Personen mhlmfsnig zuslellun, ai/Jfs kurtz.it hegriffrti . M. Fnfu'mt frangk." 

' A MS. note in ttie r.(ipy in the iVIei]sph:ic'll Library (wh rh 1 liave used) nv ntions anotlier 
edition, at Str;i!-l)ur(;, vvilhoiit dale. 

t P. ',». t IV -2. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 40X 

good for sucli a person to know the dialects of many countries, with 
their errors, so that he can avoid them. But that which is most 
eminently profitable and serviceable to this end is, to take good ex- 
amples, that is, good German books and legal obligations, either 
manuscript or printed, to read them diligently, and to imitate what- 
ever in them is proper and correct. Among materials of this kind 
are documents from the chancery of the beloved emperor Maximilian 
(of most praiseworthy memory) ; and of cotemporary writings, those 
of Doctor Luther ; the most uncorrupted, amended, and correct copies 
of them that can be found." 

Thus writes Fabian Frangk, about A. D. 1531. We shall see how 
correctly he had designated the direction of the future progress of 
the written High German, and of its management as a study. Frangk 
himself only gives nine leaves to the subject of German orthography. 
He then proceeds to his principal subject, the book of forms ; and 
treats in detail of letters, titles, superscriptions, &c.* 

The other species of introductions to the reading and writing of 
German were intended to instruct the laity in reading German books, 
especially the Bil>le. How directly this religious intention was aimed 
at, will appear even from the title of the oldest of them. It is, "^n- 
chiridion. That is, manual to write and read correctly German or- 
thography and the High German language ; together tvith a register 
to the whole Bible, by which quotations and concordances in the JVeto 
Testa^nent may be referred to by the text, and also by Latin words. 
Also, how to understand Jigures and German numeration. Made by 
Johannes Kolross, teacher of Germ.an at Basle."\ This book was in 
all probability published in 1529.J In his preface, the author ex- 
jjlains his design still more fully. "Since," he begins, " it has pleased 
Almighty. God in these latter times, to cause the Holy Scriptures (his 
divine word) to come by means of printing into the hands of the 
simple lay people, for their good and encouragement, in intelligible 
native speech, they show no little desire to have their children, who 

* I cite from among all the numerous books of forms, rhetorics. &c., only this of Frangk's. 
This class of works constitutes quite a literature in itself, during the latter part of the fifteenth 
century and the sixteenth. Of a large number of others which I looked through in the library 
at Berlin, I shall name only two, viz : — 

Fridrich Rieder, '^Rhetorical Mirror {Rhethorichscher Spiegel)" (sic, at end), 1493. folio ; 
and 

Meichssncr, "Manual [Handlbuechlin)," Tubingen, 1550. 8vo. 

t "Encheridion. Das ist, kantbvchlin teutscher Orthographi, Hochdeutsche spraoch, art- 
lich zeschreyben vnd lesen, sampt einem Registerlein Viber die. gantze Bibel, wie man die Alle- 
galiones vnnd Concordant ias, So im Newen Testament, neben den Text vnd sonst, mit hal- 
ben Latinixcli'in Worten verzaiclinet. Aucit tcie mati die Ziffer vnd teulsche zaal verstehn, 
soil. Diirch Johannem Kolross. Teutsck Lesermnystern zuo Basel Gemachte." 

J See the number 1529, given by Kolross, folio 3G, as an examjile iu numeratiou. 

26 



402 INSTRUCTION IN 

are quite unable to study the original tongues of tlie holy Biblical 
writings, Hebrew and Greek, and even Latin, educated in the Ger- 
man school and learning." It is for this purpose that the book is 
prepared. It treats, first, of the distinctions of the letters ; then of 
doubling them, then of abbreviations, punctuation marks, &c., and 
" At the last follows a little register explaining the order of the books 
of the Bible, together with the figures and ordinary numeration." 

After the time of Fabian Frangk and Johannes Kolross, a great 
number of such introductions to German orthography appeared ; 
some, like Frangk's, on the plan of teaching secular forms, &c., and 
some like Kolross', chiefly with reference to learning to read, and to 
religious books. 

Ickelsamer. 

Although the labors of Aventinus, as one of those who assisted in 
the transition from the exclusive use of Latin in instruction, to that 
of German, must not be passed by without mention, still a grammar 
of the Latin language with a few remarks in German here and there 
inserted, can not be termed a German Grammar. The credit, accord- 
ingly, of having made the first attempt to prepare a German gram- 
mar, belongs to another ; to Valentin Ickelsamer. 

Ickelsamer was a cotemporary of Luther, studied at Wittenberg, 
and was a zealous adherent of the German reformation. When how- 
ever the difference between Luther and Karlstadt became an open 
controversy, Ickelsamer took part with Karlstadt, went with him to 
Tauber at Rottenburg, and put forth there a passionate controversial 
publication against Luther. At a subsequent period he withdrew 
again from Karlstadt's party, in 1527 came to a full understanding 
with Luther,* and lived at Erfurt, employing himself with teaching 
Bchool and grammatical labors. 

Having previously published a book on the right method of learn- 
ing to read,f he put forth his German grammar in 1531, or shortly 
after. J It appeared at fii'st without place or date, with the title 

•* Luther's letter to Justus Menius. De Wette, vol. 3, p. 190 
tTliis appears from Ickelsamer's own introduction to his Grammar, p. 10. 
^'Opinions differ as to the time when this first edition of Ickelsamer's grammar appeared. 
As the point is of some interest, relating to the very tirst German grammar, I shall go a little 
more into detail upon it. Some authorities fix the date of ihe first edition in 1522 ; as, among 
others, Hoffmann, "German Philology (Deutsche Philologic)," p. 139 ; Koberstein, "History 
of German National Literature (Geschichte der deutschen National Litteratur), " 4lh eti., 
1845, p. 460 ; Ettmuller, '■'■History of German Literature (Deutsche Litteraturgeschichle)," p. 
328. Pischon, in his "Guide (Leitfaden)," gives 1527, as the year of publication ; Eitner, in 
his'Tai/fs (Tabellen)," 1525. I think I can show that the Grammar which we have by 
Ickelsamer can not have been written before 153J. A citation from one of Luther's letters; 
respecting the date 1527, (De Wette, vol. 3, p. 190), which has been relied on, is not conclu- 
sive. For if weread. with Beesenjneyer, " grwniTnatica sua" instead of " tua " (good Latin- 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 4O3 

''^Oerman Grammar^ from which one may learn to read hy himself ; 
with all that pertains to a knowledge of reading German, its orthogra- 
phy^ its defects and superfluities, and much more also. Also some- 
thing concerning the right method and etymology of the German lan- 
guage and words, and how German words should be divided into their 
syllables and spelled together. Valentin IdcelsamerP* It was re- 
printed a little later, by Johann Petreius, at Nuremberg, in 1537. It 
is a small book, not filling more than five small octavo sheets (pp. 80) ;f 
but its contents are in the highest degree remarkable and interesting. 
The author proves himself familiar with the Latin language, and 

ity requires the word to be e;'us), the reference becomes necessarily to Ickelsamer's earlier 
grammar, mentioned by himself. But the positive reason for claiming that the grammar of 
which I am speaking can not have been written before 1531, is this. Ickelsamer says, on p. 
57 of the 1st ed., " As the learned Beatus Rhenanus, who was well acquainted with this sub- 
ject, shows by an instance in his ' Geographia, or Description of some places in Germany ;' to 
wit, that the locality rightly and not arbitrarily named the Concorssberg, is called in German 
the Kochelssberg." (Ickelsamer's edition of 1537, more correct both here and in many other 
places, reads " Kocherssberg ") I know of no work of Beatus Rhenanus with the title of 
'•Geographia." Nor does Rotermund, in his continuation of Jijcher (Vol. 6, No. 1946) men- 
tion such a title. Ickelsamer's quotation is however from the learned work of Beatus Rhe- 
nanus, '■'■Rerum Germanicarum libri tres," Basle, 1531 ; in which we tind (p. 163), the follow- 
ing : " I believe the fortress of Cochesperg {Cochespergiam arccm) to have been another cita- 
del originally called Concordia; and that the Germans gradually modified the name Con- 
cordia, which was an unknown and unmeaning word to them, until they had turned it to a 
■word meaning a quiver. Any one who understands German will know what I mean." 

Ickelsamer refers several times to the same work. Thus in his strange etymology of Weih- 
nackt (Christmas), pp. 58, 59, he says, " as in the case, amongst many others, of the word 
Weinnacht, which Rhenanus also explains; the word is derived from 'a nifiht of wine' 
[ainer leeynige nacht), spent in wine drinking; a description which does not ill suit Christ- 
mas night, which we call Weinnacht, and which we pass in drinking and feasting, in the honor 
of the great God. The name has undoubtedly descended to us from a heathen one ; for they 
were accustomed to honor their gods in that manner." Compare now the following from 
Beatus Rhenanus, ''Rer. Germ.,'" p. 7 : " They (viz. the ancient Germans) were in the habit 
of sometimes passing not only the day but the night also, in carousing ; for it is no disgrace 
with them, says Tacitus, to continue drinking day and night. From which custom the names 
of some of our own festivals have been derived ; such as that at the calends of January, on 
which, by the custom of Christians, we celebrate the nativity of our Saviour ; which is called 
Vuinnacht, an ancient word, undoubtedly handed down from heathen observances, and re- 
ferring to wine and conviviality." 

Besides these undeniable citations, there are others, not so direct. Thus, Ickelsamer says, 
p. 56, " And that no language whatever, the German especially, is entirely pure, but that they 
are all mingled up together." Compare with this Beatus Rhenanus, Rer. Germ., p. 110: 
" For I consider that at the present day all languages are mingled with some others ; and that 
none of them are pure." If it is thus proved that Ickelsamer cited the "Rerum Germanicum 
libri tres " of Beatus Rhenanus, it is also proved that his grammar can not have been written 
before 1531. For Rhenanus' book first appeared in that year ; as it is proved that there can 
not have been any previous edition, now lost, by the fact that the dedication of it to Ferdinand, 
the brother of Charles V., is dated "Selestadii, Calendis Martiis. {Anno MDXXXl)." 

* '^Teutschi: Grammatica Daraus ainer von jm sclbs mag lesen lernen, mit aJlem dem, sri 
zum Teiitschen Lesen vnnd desselben Orthographiam mangel vnd iiberfluss, auch anderm vil 
mehr, zuo wissen gehoert. Auch ettwas von der rechten art vnd Etymologia der tfMtschen 
sprach vnd woertcr, vnd ufie man die Teiitschen woerter in ire silben taylen, vnd zuosamen 
Buochstubcn soil. Valentin Ickelsamer." 

t The kindness of Wilhelm Grimm procured me the use of the first edition, from the Berlin 
Library, and Prof Bertheau obtained me the second edition from the library at Gotlingen. 



404 



INSTRUCTION IN 



somewhat acquainted with Greek and Hebrew.* He cites Quintihan 
a number of times, and appositely; and is evidently thoroughly 
trained in the whole of Latin grammar. But that which gives its 
chief value to the work is, its close connection with the whole intel- 
lectual tendency of that great era at which it appeared. Notwithr 
standing his having once been a victim of the visionary views of 
Carlstadt, Ickelsaraer had retained the true portion of those views 
whose misunderstanding occasioned the horrors of the Peasants' War. 
He recognized the profound dej^ths of human nature, and had feel- 
ings for the common people. 

Ickelsamer's little work is injured by a superfluity of materials ; 
for the author did not confine himself to his own proper design, 
which, as will readily be seen, is a very simple one, but more than 
once strays into a field quite foreign to it. He sets up in the begin- 
ning a very high ideal of what a German grammar should be. 
" There has been," he says, " for a long time, no German grammar 
existing or written, except such as were made by taking a Latin gram- 
mar and translating it ; as I know by my own experience. But this 
seems great labor and little profit to one who undertakes to teach 
German, as it should be said and spoken, in such forms as der Hans, 
des Hansen, &g. ; Ick schreib, ich hah geschriben, &c. Such inflec- 
tions will be much better learned from the mother of a child, than 
from a grammar.'' But what should be done is, " to set forth clearly 
§nd in German, the eight parts of speech and their nature ;" and thus 
give a good German syntax. But this should not be done as "in the 
common Donatuses for children,"f but by illustrating their correct use 
in German idioms. Ickelsamer cites the German participle as an in- 
stance in point, and repeats his views of the high value of such a 
German grammar as he ' describes ;J and then suddenly ending the 
discussion, closes his preface, with the words : " This portion of 
grammar, which is treated of in this my little book, I have con- 
sidered the best and most useful, and have therefore with pleasure 
devoted my small powers to it. God grant that all that I have 
done may be to his glory. Amen." The part of grammar thus 

*That he was not very profoundly acquainted with the Greek appears from his remarks 
on Xps, pp. 38, 39 ; and from the fact of his not mentioning tlie Greek combinations yy, yK, 
on p. 40. Compare the observations of Kolross on Xps, Encheridion, folio 16. 

t See, on Donatus, above, p. 397. 

X Ickelsamer is particularly full at p. 61, in explaining his high demands upon German 
schoolmasters. It would be very wrong for them to be able or willing to teach only reading, 
writing, and arithmetic. They should be thoroughly acquainted with the whole of German 
grammar; and the pupil should learn this grammar before proceeding to any foreign language. 
I confine myself to this brief allusion in a note to these views, certainly surprising ones for 
A. D. 1531, as Ickelsamer himself has not set them forth at all in detail, but has limited him- 
self to the " best and most useful part of them." 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 4O5 

alluded to, is that indicated in the words of the title, " To learn to 
read German, and German orthograph}." 

If we agree with Ickelsamer's estimate of the importance of the art 
of reading, we shall with him recognize it as the " best and most use- 
ful part " of grammar. "It is without doubt," he says, " that scarcely 
any one work or creature on earth has been more used at once to the 
honor and dishonor of God, than the art of reading, through the writ- 
ing of many good and evil books. And every one who shall under- 
stand and come to the right mode of learning to read, which this 
book shows, will confess that it is an excellent gift of God, whether 
he be a wood cutter or a shepherd in the field ; and every one may 
learn by his own labor, without schoolmasters and books. Let him 
pray to God, as I do."* " I have already printed something con- 
cerning the right mode of learning to read, but not so thoroughly 
and clearly as in this present little book ; and nothing else has moved 
me thereto except of love and pleasure in its subtle art, which I would 
fain communicate to every man ; for it is a holy gift of God, which 
men ought to use for his divine honor, in humility and fear of heart, 
and to teach to others. And this reading is such an art that one may 
learn it in one day, if need be."f "And how well should I reckon 
this my labor to be repaid, if a single God-fearing person, who per- 
haps has no place of abode here for any long time (for real Christians 
are uncertain whether they will abide long in this world,) shall learn 
it so quickly, and to good purpose, and shall thereafter use it to th^ 
honor of God. "J Ickelsamer wrote his book about 1531. Luther's 
New Testament appeared in 1522. A book of the Old Testament 
appeared almost every year afterwards, until at last the first complete 
edition of Luther's masterpiece appeared in 1534. In such a period, 
the teacher of reading might well feel himself an instrument in the 
hands of God. 

The new method by which Ickelsamer expected so much to lighten 
the labor of learning to read, was a sort of method by sounds 
{Lautirmethode). He divided the words into their sounds, arranged 
and described the sounds, in a mode on the whole accurate and vivid, 
and lays down the principle that in instructing, a difference should 
be made between the name of the letter and its sound. We name 
the letters "Be, ce, de, ef, ge," <fec. ; so that one letter will no longer 
serve to designate these words or syllables. For the single letters 
themselves are too subtle to name, and§ can not all be named, but 

*P. 7. I quote always from the oldest edition. Both editions are without numbered 
pages. 
tP 10. tP. 11. 

§ This word (und, and), is spelled vnnd in the 1st edition. Although (p. 68), Ickelsamer ex- 



406 INSTRUCTION IN 

all that can be done is, to show bow tbey are prepared in the mouth 
with the natural organs, though no sound is heard. But if used 
word or syllable-wise, the letters are more hindrance than help in 
learning to read.* 

The second subject which Ickelsamer promises in bis title to treat 
more in detail, is German orthography. For this he lays down two 
principal rules. " The first is, that he who would read or write a 
w6rd, must give diligent attention to the meaning and composition of 
that word."f " The second, that he say over the word, or its parts, 
that is, the letters, with his mouth, and ask his tongue how it sounds,''^ 
The mode of applying this second rule in detail had already been im- 
pliedly explained in Ickelsamer's phonic (Lautir) method for teaching 
reading. In applying the first rule, however, he digresses into ety- 
mological discussions, sometimes profound, but sometimes very wrong 
headed. But be has the good sense to recommend, in a special 
paragraph, " not to desert a passably good common usage in words 
or speech," for the sake of orthography or etymology .§ 

Oelivger. 

In 1573, Albert Oelinger, public notary at Strasburg, published a 
German grammar, with the title: '^^Instruction in the High German 
language ; Grammar, or institution of the correct German tongue., 
in which etymologg, syntax, and the other j)ortions are briefly treated, 
each in its order. Written some years ago, chiefly for the use of 
French youth, but now published at the instance of sundry persons, 
and not less useful than necessary to most of the neighboring nations. 
With the opinion of Master Johann Sturm, respecting the knowledge 
and practice of the tongues of the present day. By Albert Oelinger ^ 
notary public at Strasburg. Strasburg, p7inted by Nicholas Wyriot, 
1573." 8o.ll 

I ha\e given this title in full, as very clearly expressing the pur- 

pressly forbids the double n in the word, he has left many vnnds in the book. Even after his 
repudiation of it at p. C8, I counted no less than sixteen of them, to the end. But it is 
remarkable that in the " reading manual," viz., pp. 71-74, the correction has been accurately 
made ; so that tliere is no vnnd on those pages. 

* P 13. T P. 24. t P 25. § P. 62, et seq. 

il " Underricht der Hoch Teutschen Spraach ; Grammatica sou Institutio Verae Germani- 
ea lingual', in qua Etynwlogia, Syntaxis, et rcHqune paries omnes srw ordi7te breriter tractnn- 
tur. In usum jiiventutis maxime Gnlticat, ante annos aliqiiot conseripla, nunc autein 
quorundam instinclu in lucem edita, plaerifique vicinis nationibus, non minus utilis quam 
nccessaria. Cum D. Joan. Sturmij sententia, de cngnitione et exercitatione linguarum 
nostri saeculi. Alberto Oelingero Argent. Notario publico Auctore. Argentorati, excudebat 
Nicolaus Wyriot. 1573." 

Hoffman, (''German Philology," p. 139,) gives 1574 as the imprint. This is hovirever 
wrong, unles.= there was a second edition. The copy from the Munich library, which I have 
used, has 1573, both in the title and at the end. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 407 

pose and contents of the book. Oelinger wrote it as a book for 
foreigners to learn German from. In his epistle dedicatory to the 
duke of Lorraine, he states this design still more plainly. Poles, 
Bohemians, Hungarians, Italians, Frenchmen, Englishmen, Scotch- 
men, Danes and others, he says, need a knowledge of the German 
tongue, in part by reason of their intercourse with that nation, in 
part on account of the important matters which have taken place in 
Germany, and have been commemorated in the German language. 
But, he continues, the German language can no more be learned 
correctly without a grammar, than the Greek or Latin. lie there- 
fore looked about among the booksellers, in order if possible to find a 
German grammar which would answer his requirements. But the book- 
seller had no such for sale, and usually said that they were altogether 
doubtful whether the German language could easily enough be 
brought under definite grammatical rules ; and thus it has happened 
that although some grammars of our language have been elsewhere 
2>ublished, they have been as wide of correct German, as the Doric 
Alpha from the Ionic Ita.* For these reasons he had concluded to 
supply this want. 

With regard to the "• dialectus^'' and " ^c?^07?^a," which he himself 
uses, Oelinger says, at the conclusion of his grammar, " The idiom 
which we have used is that common to all the people of Upper Ger- 
many ; and in like manner Ave chiefly recommend such books as are 
printed in the same ; as at Frankfurt, Mentz, Basle, Leipzig, Nurem- 
berg, Strasburg, Augsburg, Ingolstadt and Wittenberg.f The text of 
Oelinger's grannnar is Latin, and its arrangement is in general simi- 
lar to that of the ancient grammar. It does not however slavishly 
follow the Latin grammars, but agrees with the Greek, where the lat- 
ter language is more like German than the former is. J The book 
treats successively of teaching the letters and sounds, then of the 
eight parts of speech, article noun, pronoun, verb, tfec, all with full 
paradigms. Then come very brief portions on syntax and prosody. 

If it is remembered that Oelinger had to construct his whole sys- 
tem from the unarranged materials of the German language, with no 
help except what he could obtain from a classical grammar, we shall 
readily acknowledge the merits of this first effort.§ 

An especial interest is given to Oelinger's book by the fact that 

* Reuchlin's pronounciation of ela. 

t P. 200. } See e. g., p. IS, on the eight parts of speech. 

§ Oelinger, for example, avoids the easy path of many later writers, who recognize ths- 
" weak conjugation " as the only regular one. and call the " strong conjugation " anomalous. 
He admits four regular forms of conjugation in German, giving the strong verbs to the three- 
former, and the weak ones to the latter. (P. 96, &c ) He has many facts o( interest for the- 
history of the language, which we have not here space to consider. Thus, he gives the end-- 



408 INSTRUCTION IN 

Johann Sturm, in his time so eminent as an educator, prefixed a par- 
ticular recommendation to it.* In this opinion, which is addressed 
to Conrad Preslausky, secretary of the kingdom of Poland, he con- 
siders Oelinger's German grammar as the first which has appeared 
in Germany ; and lays down the dictum that modern foreign languages 
ought to be learned and used, not only with earnest study, but ac- 
cording, to the rules of art. This, he says, is particularly necessary 
for those concerned in embassies ; of whom those always succeed 
best who can use the language of those to whom they are sent. 
The languages of the Greeks and Romans, are no doubt exceedingly 
excellent in words and in thoughts, " but if they are not understood, 
what power for conviction can they have.f 

Clajus. 

It will not have escaped the attention of the reader, that we have 

hitherto only very cursorily alluded to one of the most important 

questions which can be asked respecting a German grammar, viz., 

What phase of the German language — what dialect — did the Ger- 

ing en for the genitive and dative singular of some feminines {^as/raiven) ; but the form of 
the nominative ifraw) for the accusative singular. 

* For Sturm's views on the exclusive use of the Latin, see thiS work. 

tAny person who has studied the history of German grammar sufficiently to be acquainted 
with the title of the grammars which appeared during the sixteenth century, will perhaps 
wonder that I have not mentioned an often cited book, the ^-German Grammar or Art of 
Language, A most certain method. 4"C., (Tiutsch Grammaiik oder SprachKu7ist. Certis- 
Siwa ra/2o,)(5-c.," by I.aurentius Albertus Ostrofrancus. Augsburg, 1573. 8vo. But it was 
not my intention to notice all the books on the subject, of the sixteenth century. And I had 
besides a very particular reason for omitting to speak of this Lanrentius Albertus, a copy of 
whose work, from the Berlin library, I have used. This is, that he is in many places merely 
a duplicate of Oelinger. What the precise nature of the case is, I have not yet clearly ascer- 
tained ; but am satisfied that at any rate either Oelinger or Lanrentius Albertns copied 
without permission from the other. Whole sentences coincide almost word for word. See 
for instance, at the words '■'Poloni, Boemi," &c.. Albert, fo. 10, and Oelinger, fo. 4; Albtrf, 
fo. 11, III, and Oelinger, fo. 2; Albert, fo. 31, '■^Idiuina vptu," &c , and Oelinger. p. 200. It is 
quite impossible fo explain such coincidences as mere chance; although perhaps in such 
cases as the above, a sufficient excuse may be found even for a verbal transfer from another 
author without naming him. But there can be no such excuse for doing so with whole sec- 
tions of a grammar. And that one of the two had the book of the other, or at least parts of 
it, before him, will not be doubted by any one who will compare what Albertus says of gen- 
der, fo. 45, &c., with Oelinger, p. 34, &c., and Albertus on declension, fo. 62, &c., with Oelin- 
ger, p. 55, <fec. The question to be decided is, therefore, which of the two made this un- 
licensed use of the other? The prima facie evidence would seem to make Oelinger the 
delinquent; for although both books are dated 1573 on the title page, yet the dedication of 
Albertus (fo. 10,) is dated ^'■Wurtzburgi 20 Septemb., anno, 72;" while Oelinger's is ' Argen- 
tinae pridie Nonarum. Septembris., anno, 1573 ;" so that the work of Albertus would thus 
seem to be almost a whole year older than Oelinger's. The considerations which have 
decided me, nevertheless, to set down Albertus for the copyist, are the following: — 

1. Oelmger's book is beyond comparison better than that of Albertus, as will be easily 
perceived on comparing the passages above cited on declension, or indeed those on conjuga- 
tion, (Albertus, fo. 77, &c., and Oelinger, fo, 96, &c). 

2. The occasion of writing Oelinger's book is clearly set forth in the dedication, and the 
whole work corresponds to the design there stated. This can scarcely be said of the dedica- 
tion and book of Albertus. 

3. The prefixed recommendation of Sturm, at that time one of the most distinguished edu- 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 499 

man grammarians select to teach ? We have already become 
acquianted •with one of the pioneers of German grammar and 
German orthography, who answer this question with remark- 
able acuteness. This is Fabian Frangk, who does so by his refer- 
ence to Emperor Maximilian's Chancery and to Dr. Luther. 
Although this same way of thinking was continually gaining ground 
during the sixteenth century, still the grammarians proper, seems 
to have reached a clear understanding on the subject, only by 
gradual degrees. In the present account, we have closely fol- 
lowed the methods of the first German grammarians themselves ; 
and these, again, are exactly a true expression of the condition out 
of which, the German written language was just then, for the first 
time, beginning to rescue itself. lekelsamer complains bitterly in 
various places, of the shameful neglect of their own orthography and 
grammar by the Germans.* "What encouragement," he asks, "has 
any one to write a grammar for the people of Germany, wlio neither 
value their language, nor have any love of it, nor pleasure in it, nor 
will apply any industry in learning it ?"f Again he speaks of "the 
rescue of our common German tongue, which is now so uncultivated 
and corrupted."]; In another place he admonishes not to vary from 
"the long accustomed use of German words,"§ and "that we ought 
to write and speak as the common custom directs."]] But to the 

catore of Germany, is evidence of the integrity of Oelinger ; whereas I have so far been un- 
able to find any testimony of a decisive Itind to tlie character of Alberliis. 

4. Oelinger's book contains more than one very intelligible hint that its matter would be 
stolen by some dishonest person. An epigram by the author to the book, at fo. 8, says : — 
" Esse tui domini dices si forte rngabit 

Lector : in apertum viilgus iture liber. 
Bis tanto valeo, qiiam si mittaris ab uUo 
Ex me, qui didicit : iion docuit : sed ego " 

" If the reader shall ask of thee concerning thy author, O book about to go forth amongst 
the community at large, reply ; that you are worth^twice as much as if put forth by one who 
liad been my pupil ; he would not teach, but I." ' 

And at the end of the book, in a poem by Jacob Hartmann on the publication of Oellnger'a 
grammar, he is exhorted to put it in print, '• lest another should reap the fruit, who did not 
BOW. But let the best prevail, and the unjust party be driven olT the field." And in another 
poem, Jacob Meier, says, addressing the book, " Why did Oehnger keep you back from the 
press for nine years 1 Because furtive fraud was despoiling your wealth." 

All this seems to give a pretty clear insight into the real state of the case A full history of 
German grammar would of course discuss whatever are the real characteristics of Albertus; 
but I am obliged to omit doing so, at least until he is freed from the charge which I have 
mentioned. The fact that Albertus was a Ro.Tian Catholic, can not be supposed to have pre- 
judiced me against him ; for as all appearances indicate, he was not regarded with any special 
favor by the Catholic schools of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. (See below, under 
Clajus). I will add, as a hint to any one disposed to investigate this matter further, that 
it seems not alfogther improbable that subsequently to the robbery by Albertus, Oelinger may 
have made some supplementary use of his book, which was printed before bis own. 

« P. 23. 

t A very serious consideration for lekelsamer. Comp p. 78. In my quotations from him 
in this chapter (on Clajus), I have substituted i and u for his j and v. 

JP. 23. §P. 62. IIP, 63 



410 INSTRUCTION IN 

question where the " common German tongue " and the " common 
custom " are to be found, no answer is given. Ickelsamer knew very 
well how great were the differences among the High German dia- 
lects.* But he gives no directions for choosing among them in 
writing German. His rule to ask our own ears and tongue how a 
word sounds,! is no answer to this inquiry ; and experience must very 
early have taught him that it would be far from being in one uniform 
way throughout Germany, that the children would "learn from their 
mothers how to say and speak ' Ich schreib, Ich hab geschrihen.'' "J 

Oelinger thought it necessary to state, at least, at the end of his 
grammar, what dialect of the German language the book taught. In 
a paragraph already quoted, he designates the area of the High Ger- 
man dialects as distinguished from the Low German ; and by refer- 
ring to the books printed in High Germany, he makes a ditference 
between a written dialect common to all parts of Upper Germany, 
and the varying spoken dialects of the country people. In order to 
gain a fixed rule for the German written language, the only further 
steps now necessary was, to make an end of the variations in the 
practice of authors, by fixing upon the usage of the greatest German 
writer, Luther, as the rule.§ This great step was taken by the gram- 
mar of Clajus. 

The course of the German grammar in this process was entirely 
parallel with the gradual fixation of the New High German written 
language. Had Luther, as has been sometimes supposed, elevated 
one of the dialects spoken in a district to a new dignity as the written 
language, and by so doing, driven a previously received written lan- 
guage out of use, the first and most necessary step for a German 
^rammarian would have been, of course, to explain the differences of 
her's language from that which preceded it. But the fact was 
far otherwise. Luther found the language which he adopted al- 
leady in use in a very large part of Germany, as the language of the 
chanceries of the princes, and of books. Luther's own statements in 
the Table-talkjl are clear enough. He says, " I have no definite, pecu- 
liar German language of my own, but use the common^ German 
language, so as to be understood by the High Germans and Low 
Germans both. I speak after the usage of the Saxon chancery, which 
is followed by all the princes and kings in Germany. All the imperial 
cities and the officers of the princes write after the usage of the Saxon 

* p. 46. t P. 25. t P. 2. 

§ It is not a pedantical confinement to Luther's style which is meant, such as was the rule 
of tlie Ciceroiiians of the sixteenth century reganliiig Cicero, but only that Luther's autorial 
delineation of the field of the language was generally accepted as correct. 

II Fo. 578, of the edition of Eisleben, 1566, in folio. 

H Compare the citation from Ickelsamer, above, p. 155. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 411 

chancery and of our own prince. Therefore this is the most universal 
German language. The Emperor Maximihan, Elector Frederic * &c., 
have thus established a fixed usage for the German language in the 
Roman Empire." The substance of this statement of Luther is con- 
firmed not only by the papers issued from the Saxon chancery, but by 
those from that of the empire. And in like manner the German 
works printed during the fifteenth century at Nuremberg, are sub- 
stantially in the German of Luther.f Luther did not adopt any dis- 
tinct dialect, but the common German language as he found it, as it 
had developed itself from amongst the mingled dialects of central and 
eastern Germany, and had become established in the imperial chan- 
cery as the recognized reigning German language. But even in the 
localities where this authoritative German language had become the 
leading one, it suffered many dialectic modifications ; and from this 
common German language, based mainly on the spoken dialects of cen- 
tral and eastern Germany, there had arisen both in northern and south- 
ern Germany, the most difierent modifications, which were employed 
even for printed books. In Lower (northern) Germany they were print- 
ed in Low German, in Switzerland in Swiss German. Luther unques- 
tionably contributed much to spread the domain of the authoritative 
German, and often to fix it permanently in the forms which he him- 
self used.;j; The predominance of this new written language over the 

* Frederic the Wise ; died 1525. 

t Compare for instance tlie German Bible " in correct common German," " printed by An- 
tlioiiy Kuburger. in the worthy imperial city of Nuremberg," 1483. It is not my taslc here to 
write the history of the High German dialect, but only to give a general account of the sub- 
stitution of I.i'.ther's German for the Middle High German. For the relation of the New 
High German (Luther's) written language to the district oral dialects and to the earlier writ- 
ten language, see R. von Raumer, "On the German Orthography {Ueber Deutsche Recht- 
schreibungx" Vienna, 1855, p. 85, e^ seq. I will here cite a single striking instance of the struggle 
between the dialectic forms of south-western Germany, from which mainly was derived the 
Middle High German, and those of central and eastern Germany, where tlie New High Ger- 
man originated. Niclas von Wyle, born at Bremgarten in the Aargau (see his '•Translations," 
1st ed., fo. 243), secretary of the council at Nuremberg, (ib . fo. 4), afterwards city clerk at 
Esslingen, (fo. 71), and finally chancellor of Count Ulrich of Wirtemberg, (fo 3), published iu 
1478 a number of translations and epistles. Although his dialect has evidently felt the influ- 
ence of the language used in the chanceries of the day, still he uses in many important cases 
the forms of his native locality, instead of those of central and ea.stern Germany. He makes 
y and i equivalent to the Middle High German i.; and v and u, to its u. His first edition is 
printed in this way (but not that of Augsburg, 1536); and this was evidently the author's own 
dialect, as appears from his own remarks at fo. 243 ; for there he distinguishes minn from 
min by doubling then. Such were the forms used by Niclas von Wyle, while city clerk of 
Esslingen, about the middle of the fifteenth century. With his writings may be compared the 
decrees of the Diet of Worms, anno 1495, as printed immediately after it by the imperial cities 
for private use, and issued from the archives of Esslingen itself (Uatt, "Z>e pace pubtica," 
Ulm, 1693, p. 825 ; Schmauss, "Corpus J^ns," Leipzig, 1759, p 56. It will then be easily 
seen what is the precise force of Luther's words just quoted, about the Emperor Maximilian. 

tOn the progress of the written New High German independently of Luther's inHuence, 
see also Frjedr. Zarncke, in his edition of Sebastian Brant's ''Ship of Fools (.Narrenschief)^" 
Leipzig, 1854, p. 276. The character of the New High German was no doubt t le chief cause 



412 INSTRUCTION IN 

separate dialects is of coarse connected with its growth out of the 
eight hundred years' written development of the Middle and Old 
High German, but it owed its new impulses of power and feeling to 
the spirit which the great reformer breathed into it. 

Ickelsamer was conscious of the existence of a " common German 
tongue,'' but was unable to give any clear account of it. Oelinger 
recognized the language of the books of Upper Germany as the sub- 
ject of his instructions. But Clajus established the doctrine that 
Luther's German was the standard written German.* 

Johannes Clajus was born A. D. 1533, at Herzberg, a town on the 
Black Elster, some six milesf from Wittenberg. He attended school 
at Grimma, studied theology at Leipzig, taught music, poetry and 
Greek at Goldberg, from 1560 (?) to 1569, and was then for a short 
time rector at Fraidvcnstein in Silesia. Becoming weary of his label's 
in the school, he went to Wittenberg, and took a master's degree 
there in 1570 ; but in the same year again accepted a school appoint- 
ment, as rector of the city school at Nordhausen. In 1572 he re- 
signed this place, and in 1573 became minister at Bendeleben, a vil- 
lage in the bailiwick of Weissensee in Thuringia, where he died in 
1592.J In a series of published writings, he showed himself a learn- 
ed and accomplished scholar in Latin, Greek and Hebrew. Among 
these works we find " Three books of Latin, Greek and Hebrew 
Prosody ;"§ six books of Greek poems ; a Hebrew grammar ; Ger- 
man poems, (fee. Far the most important of his works, however, was 
his German grammar, upon which, by his own account, he had labored 

of its obtaining the prominent place which it already held before Luther. See my essays on 
German orthography, p. 93. et seq. But the powerful influence wliich Luther exercised, more 
especially upon the intellectual development of the new language, can not be overlooked. 

* Of the grammarians of the sixteenth century whom we mention here, no one recognized 
quite accurately the real nature of the New High German written dialect. Fabian Frangk 
came nearest to doing so. The imperial chancery was mentioned as offering a proper stand- 
ard for a common written German by the learned philologist and educator Hieronymus Wolf, 
in a work "Oe Orthographia Ger»ia?!ica," whose second edition appeared as an appendix to 
the '■Institutionum granimaticaruin Joannis Rivii lihri oclo." Augaburg, 1578. (Hoffmann, 
in his ^^ Outline of German Philology [Die deutsche Philologie im Grunilrins]" mentions a 
previous ed. of 1556.) But Wolf was not capable of making a proper use of his conception. 
(Compare my essay in PfeifTer's '•Germania," 1856, II, p. 160, et seq.) Appeals to the Ger- 
man of the imperial court and of the imperial chamber of justice at Spires may be found down 
to a late period in the seventeenth century. (See VV. VV'ackernagel, ^•History of German Lite- 
rature" p. 3C9). But the importance of Luther's influence on the language is shown by the 
very fact that notwithstanding this, his writings have been far more extensively appealed to 
as the fixed standard for German grammar. 

t About twenty-five English miles. 

X Jordens, '■'■Lexicon of German Poets and Prosenien (Lexicon deutscher Dichter und 
Prosaisten)," i, 302. Clajus, "Grammatica Germanae linguae." preface. 

^'■'■Libri tres prosodiae Latinae, Graecae ct Ebraicae." Thus cited by Clajus himself in 
his preface to his German Grammar, The full title was somewhat longer. It appeared at 
Wittenberg, 157S, Svo, 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 413 

more than twenty years* He published this work in ISTS, at 
Leipzig, with the title; ''Grammar of the German language, by 
Master Johannes Clajus of Jferzberg. Compiled from the German 
Bible, and other writings of LutherP] In his preface, he expresses 
liimself like a true German, and also as a zealous Protestant and en- 
thusiastic admirer of Luther. To the Germans, he says, appertain 
the kingdom and the priesthood {ius regni et sacerdotii) ; for the 
power of the fourth monarchy (of prophecy) has descended from the 
Romans to the Germans, whose princes choose the Emperor. " And 
the true priesthood," he continues, " which consists in preaching the 
evangel of the true sacrifice of Christ, is taken from the unbelief of 
heathen worship and of popish darkness, and by God's special good- 
ness intrusted to us ; so that the saving truth of the justification of 
men, can now be learned, no longer exclusively by learned men 
out of the Hebrew and Greek of the prophets and apostles, but by 
the German people, out of the clear stream of Luther." And to 
these two benefits is added a third, that besides the knowledge of 
these holy things that pertain to our salvation, which are so clearly 
and fully set down in Luther's writings, one may from the same writ- 
ings obtain also the most surprising and complete knowledge of the 
German tongue, useful and necessary both to that nation and to 
foreigners. "This knowledge," he adds, "I have in this book set 
forth in grammatical rules, collected from the Bible and other works 
of Luther. For I hold his writings to be not so much the work of a 
man as of the Holy Spirit of God, speaking through a man, and am 
entirely convinced that the Holy Ghost, who spoke pure Hebrew 
through Moses and the other prophets, and Greek through the Apos- 
tles, also spoke good German through his chosen instrument, Luther." 
For otherwise he considers that it would have been impossible for a 
single man to have spoken such pure, forcible, and elegant German 
without instruction or help from any person. 

These extracts clearly show the spirit in which Clajus wrote. But 
it would be an error to expect from his grammar the same that we 
should now require of a grammar of Luther's German. He only 
undertakes to lay down in his unpretending book, the most important 
outlines of the German written language, as used by Luther, in order 
that, as he expresses it,| foreigners may more easily learn to speak 
German, and our own people to speak more elegantly and write more 

* Preface to the Grammar. 

■f ^'Grammatica Germanicae linguae M. Johanis Claij liirtzbergcnsis ; Ex Bibliis Lut fieri 
Gnrmanicis et aliis eius libris coUecta. 
}P. 1. 



414 INSTRUCTION IN 

correctly. He then proceeds to set forth the different parts of gram- 
mar in the method of the Latin grammars of the day, as, 1. Or- 
thography ; 2. Prosody ; 3. Etymology, with very full paradigms ; 
and 4. Syntax. There are also two more chapters, on the ancient 
poetical methods of the Germans, and on the imitation of the an- 
cient metres in German. However much the rules of Clajus may fall 
short of our present knowledge of German, still we can not deny to 
his book the possession of a good share of merit for those times, for 
industry, correct observation,* and above all, practical usefulness. 
One of its most objectionable characteristics, though one very easily 
explained, is its almost slavish adherence to the Latin grammar. 
Thus he calls the German direct praeterite " imperfectum ;" and 
imitates the Latin tenses by cumbrous German circumlocutions, as, 
" wir werden geliehet haben ; tvir werden geliehet sein tvorden ; werden 
geschrieben werden, scriptum iri ;" and so on. Clajus writes through- 
out not for children who are just beginning to learn to read and 
write, but for those who have already some knowledge of Latin, 
Greek and Hebrew. This is evident not only from the whole charac- 
ter of the work, but also both from the fact that it is written in 
Latin, and from the examples given here and there from Greek and 
Hebrew, by way of additional illustration. He expressly declines 
considering the numerous dialects of German.f His adherence to 
Luther's authority is left as a thing supposed of course, after his 
declarations in the title and preface; and he gives quotations from 
Luther only in a few individual instances, chiefly doubtful points.J 

The extensive circulation of Clajus' grammar, and its consequent 
great influence is shown not only by the number of its editions and 
the duration of its reputation, but still more by one very noticeable 
circumstance. This is, that it was received with favor not only by the 
Protestant part of Germany, but, although expressly based on Luther's 
writings, by the Roman Catholic part of it also, and with a favor 
both prompt and lasting. The Royal Library at Munich possesses a 
copy of the first edition which affords a very remarkable evidence of 

* Clajus also reckons both strong and weak verbs among the regular ones. (See his gram- 
mar, pp. 141 and 177). But his classification (p. 144) of verbs by their last syllables is a great 
mistake. He contains much that is very instructive. See e. g , his rule for the imperfect, p. 
143. " In the imperfect the first and third persons singular are alike, and all the other per- 
sons have the same vowels and dipthongs ; as, Ich sang, 1 was singing, er sang, du sungesf, 
wir sungen," &c. This rule is also given for the third class of verbs (in Gothic, ei, ai, i, i ) : 
see p. 115, Ich schreib, du schriebest, er schrcib, Wir schrieben, &c. And comp. pp. 145, 161. 
See also, on this point, on one hand, the well-known Old High German and Middle High Ger- 
man rule, and on the other, Schottelius, '^Complete System of the leading German dialect, 
(Ausf. Arbeit Von der Te.utschen Haupt Sprache)," Brunswick, 1662, p. 578 et seq. 

tP. 3. 

t E. g., p. 31, on words of doubtful gender ; and p. 247, on the construction of 'Jenseit." 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 415 

this. It has written on the outer cover of the binding the words, 
"Liber Coilegii Societatis Jesu Monachii Catalogo inscriptus. Anno, 
1595." In the title, the words "Ex Bibhis Lutheri" are strongly 
lined out, and the preface, from which I quoted the enthusiastic ex- 
pressions about Luther, is carefully cut out.* But they behaved 
very liberally in the body of the book, where very bad things have 
been left untouched ; such as not only the first stanza of Luther's "A 
mighty tower is our God," at p. 270, but the stanza given at p. 266, 
as an example of the " Dimeter acatalecticus constans syllabis octo ;" 
"0 Lord, uphold us by thy word, and check the crimes of Pope and 
Turks." The Jesuits were strongly opposed, no doubt, to the intro- 
duction of the common language into the schools ;f but that acute 
order was far too practical to lose those advantages which Luther and 
his fellows had gained by their employment of the German language.^ 
Many of the writings issued for the common people by the defenders 
of the Roman Catholic church in the second half of the sixteenth 
century, show how much of useful material they gathered from the 
study of Luther's writings.§ We need not therefore wonder to find 
them seeking advantage from the use of a grammar based on 
" Luther s Bible and his other writings." 

The history of Clajus' book shows how deeply seated was its reputa- 
tion, and how widely spread, even in Catholic Germany. It went 
through no less than eleven editions from lol8 to 1720; a number 
far beyond that reached by any German grammar of the sixteenth or 
seventeenth centuries. And an especially remarkable circumstance is, 
that it is clear that the editors constantly paid increasing attention to 
the circulation of the book in Catholic countries. Thus we find 
omitted, especially in the later editions, all the portions struck out or 
cut out by the Jesuits in the Munich copy. The fourth edition, 
(Eisleben, 1604)||, at any rate omits from the title the obnoxious 
words " From the German Bible of Luther and his other works," and 
substitutes "Collected from all the best authors." But it still retains 

* Compare the Apostolical Letter of Gregory XIIL A. D. 1575, in the ^^Institutes of the So- 
ciety of Jesus (bislilutus Societatis Jesu)," Pi'ague, 1757, vol. i., p. 48. 

tSee History of Pedagogy, vol. i., p. 335. The case was not very different in the classical 
schools of the Protestants. lb., i., 218, 299, 315. 

J Compare, among other authorities, the ^^Institutes of the Society of Jesus," vol. i., p. 
390. 

§ Compare, for example, the '• Explanation and confirmation of Christian and Catholic be- 
lief, by the saints, {Erklaerung vnd beuestigung Christlicher vnd Catholischer bekanntnus, 
vnn den Heyligen)," prefixed to the German Church Calender of Adam Walasser and Peter 
Canisius, Dil.ngen, 1504, p, 4. 

H In the Royal Library at Berlin, I have thus far been unable to find the second and third 
editions, which must have appeared between 1578 and 1004. But they could make no material 
change in llie statements of the text. 



416 INSTRUCTION IN 

the author's preface, with its enthusiasm for Luther. In the eighth 
edition (Jena and Leipzig, IfiSl,*) the preface also is omitted, so that 
the contents of the book correspond exactly with those of the copy 
in the Jesuits' College at Munich. But the obnoxious passages 
within the book itself, which as we have seen were left untouched by 
the censorship of the Jesuits, remain here also, as they do in the tenth 
edition (Frankfurt on the Maine, 1689).f The eleventh edition, 
which appeared at Nuremberg and Prague in 1V20,J goes one step 
further, omitting the worst of the citations, that referring to the 
Pope and Turks, and substituting " O Lord, thou great in grace and 
faith, give ear when unto thee I call."§ But other citations from 
from Luther including " A mighty tower," remain. 

Thus the German of Luther had become the written language 
both of Catholics and Protestants, as early as 1600. The little 
grammar of Clajus did not of itself produce this great effect. To 
assert that would be ascribing far too much importance to grammar 
in general, and to that of Clajus in particular. It would be much 
nearer the truth to say that the mind whose power in language had 
thus subjected Germany, was that of Luther. But still, the unob- 
trusive book of the pastor of Bendeleben is of no little interest, both 
as the external sign, and as the agent, of the spread of Luther's 
German. II 

CHAPTER II. — SEVENTEENTH CENTUKT AND FIRST HALF OF EIGHTEENTH. 

Review of the German in the Schools of the Sixteenth Century. 

We have shown in the course of the histoiy of German grammar, 
the parallel which existed during the sixteenth century between the 
progress of the fixation of the New High German written language, 
and the progress of the lal)or devoted upon the elaboration and diffu- 
sion of it. It is only after such a delineation as this of some of the 
separate facts of the grammatical treatment of the German language, 
that we can now proceed to inquire into the relation of these efforts, 
to the schools and to instruction. The first thing that strikes us is 

* In the Royal Library at Berlin. 

tin the town council library at Leipzig. j 

I Royal Library, Berlin. 

$1 have already .shown how Luther availed himself of the Imperial dialect already existinjt. 
I have shown, in my work on the influence of Christianity on the Old High German, how his 
modes of expres.sion are based, not only in general, but also by the closest dependence, upon 
the progress of the middle ages in Germany. The importance of the influence of the Ger- 
man theologians and mystics upon Luther's language, will the more clearly appear, as Franz 
Pfeiffer's critical editions of those important writers are further diffused. But no one can 
deny that all this material was worked over in Luther's mind, reshaped, inspired with new 
life, and thus made far more efficient for the common benefit of the German people. 

II P. 203. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 41^ 

their isolated and disconnected character. We find but the very re- 
motest allusions to the relation between instruction in German and 
general culture.* Generally speaking, educators proceeded on the 
ground that every one had of course a satisfactory knowledge of 
German ; and it was fortunate if they did not — as many of the most 
influential of thera did — exert themselves deliberately for the sup- 
pression of German. Notwithstanding, however, the necessity of 
some instruction in German made itself evident in very many ways, 
and at the most various points in the line of educational development; 
but without any conscious cooperation amongst them. Thus we find 
on one hand, German A B C-books and introductions to reading and 
writing for beginners; and on the other, grammars of German writ- 
ten in Latin, for those already possessed of more or less acquaintance 
with Latin, Greek, and even Hebrew. But although there was no 
conscious connection between these scattered endeavors, it is not dif- 
ficult to ascertain and state the bond which did in fact connect them 
all together. It is writing, and the written language, to which all 
these means of instruction point, whether like the reading manuals 
they lay open the first entrance into the world of German books, or, 
like the grammars written in Latin, they teach the right use of the 
High German language. It was reading and writing which necessi- 
tated the teaching of the native language in the schools ; and accord- 
ingly, we .see this department of instruction going forward equally 
with the fixation of the written language in the chanceries and in 
literature. How close was the connection between the regular givino- 
of instruction in German, and its written use, is shown in the case of 
an individual who belonged to the transition period of the language 
in the fifteenth century. Niclas von Wyle, chancellor of Count Ul- 
vich of Wirtemberg, about 14*78,1 relates of himself, that on previous 
occasions, many well educated youths, children of respectable and 
pious people, some of them having taken a bachelor's degree, had 
been sent to board with him from many places, to be instructed and 
trained in the art of writing and of drawing papers.^ For these 
pupils he first made his "translations" from the Latin; and in the 
same work he gives a treatise with directions for them in the correct 
mode of drawing up titles and headings, with occasional remarks 
upon the proper orthography for chanceries. 

* See above, p. 405, on Ickelsamer. t See above, p. 407. note 2. 

t From his Translations, 1st ed,, fo. 4, "Drawing papers" is "dichtene;" etymologicaily 
related to the Latin dictare, dictate, but by usage now meaning to write poetry. Compare 
Frangk, Orthographia, Franckfort, 1531, fo. 12; "to train skillful writers of papers {geubten. 
eehreibern des gedichts), for chanceries and other public offices." 



418 INSTRUCTION IN 

Like the mode of instruction in the use of German in the chan- 
ceries, so the A B C-books and spelling-books, were of course most 
closely connected with the written use of the German language. We 
have already seen that these books began to appear before the begin- 
ning of the new period. But their real importance and diffusion first 
took place in consequence of the two great occurrences of the fifteenth 
and sixteenth centuries ; the invention of printing and the Reforma- 
tion. The former of these first rendered practicable the general dif- 
fusion of the art of reading ; and the latter, and above all Luther's 
Bible, rendered that art a necessity to the people. For these reasons 
it is that we see the common schools, properly so called, prospering 
after the Reformation to an extent unknown in any previous period. 
The fichool law of Duke Christoph of Wirtemberg, of the year 1559, 
desiguates the "German schools" as the lowest grade ; in which boys 
and girls, separate, are to learn reading, writing, arithmetic, and sing- 
ing ;* and these German schools are to be also " in the little villages 
and hamlets."f Similar provisions are found in the school law of 
Elector Augustus of Saxony, of A. D. 1580.J It was for these 
schools and for their teachers, that the A B C-books and the instruc- 
tions in teaching reading which we have mentioned, were respectively 
intended.§ These little elementary books stood at one end, and the 
German grammars written in Latin at the other, of a course of in- 
struction in the correct mode of using German in formal papers, oral 
addresses, and books. But the attempt to include all this in one sys- 
tem, and to determine a fixed and important position in the whole 
system of instruction, belongs io the beginning of the seventeeth cen- 
tury. This important and influential step was taken by Ratichius 
and his associates. 

Ratichius and hit Associates. 

Wolfgang Ratichius, born at Wilster, in Holstein, in 15*71, and 
who died in 1635, belonged to that remarkable class of men who, 
feeling a well-grounded impulse to become reformers, and not defi- 
cient in gifts or in just perceptions, yet, after a laborious and unstable 
life, fail to attain the end which they propose, for the reason that they 
lack modesty to define properly their own mission, and not to over- 
estimate the importance of their reform and the measure of their 
abilities. The fate of such men commonly is, in the beginning of 
their career, to enlist the greatest interest and most zealous assistance 

*" Attempt at a Hiatory of Classical Education in Wirtemberg (Versuch einer Geschichte 
des gclehrten Unterricfitwesens in Wurtemberg)," by Dr. Karl Pfaff, Ulm, 1842. '■^History 
^ Pedagogy," i., 312. Barnard's "American Journal of Education," vol. vi., p. 426. 

t "History of Pedagogy," i,, 312. Barnard's "Amer. Jour, of Education," vol. vi., p. 426. 

.} lb., I, 431. § See above, pp. 401, 404. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE 



419 



of their cotemporaries ; but if they fail to fulfill the great promises 
which they make in advance of any experiment, then to find them- 
selves at once forgotten by the majority, while their enemies' asser- 
tions are believed, that their whole enterprise from the beginning was 
only a juggling trick. Thus they are quite forgotten until a less par- 
tial posterity again directs attention to them, and shows how many 
correct and even fruitful seeds were hidden under the chaff of their 
fancies and obscurities. 

It is my present business to discuss the new methods of Ratichius 
only so far as they relate to instruction in German, and the place of 
that language in a course of education.* Ratichius and his asso- 
ciates were the first to undertake to make the German language the 
basis of all subsequent instruction of whatever grade. This they did 
in two separate ways ; and they can not be denied the credit of hav- 
ing in one of these begun a career of improvement which attained 
its full development only in a later age ; although in the other one, 
they originated many errors by a mixture of right and wrong. The 
first of these modes was the unconditional assertion that the German 
language was the instrument which the schools must use, in order to 
proceed to the mastery of other language. They considered the 
native German of the pupils not, like many of their predecessors, as 
a necessary evil, which was to be got rid of as soon as possible, but 
as the most efficient and appropriate instrument for the communica- 
tion of other knowledge. Their second proceeding, however, was not 
merely to consider the German language as the innate and coexistent 
instrument of the pupil, but also to commence their instruction in 
language with a grammatical dissection of German ; and Ratichius 
laid much the greatest stress upon this second principle. f " When 
the boy is put to school," says he, " in his sixth or seventh year, he 
should first be instructed in the German language.";]; The teachers 
of the lowest class are to use an A B C-book, and a manual of read- 
ing. After this, the pupil is to proceed to the study of German upon 
the universal method which Ratichius had devised for the learning of 
all languages. The text-books chosen was Luther's translation of the 
Bible, which was to be used for reading, extracting, arranging, and 

*On the life and labors of Ratichius collectively, see ^^ History of Pedagogy," ii., 10-44, and 
479-^9. Barnard's •^American Journal of Education," vol. v., p. 245. 

t Ratichius' method by its own nature imposed very definite limits to the application of his 
first principle. 

X '■'■Tlie new and desirable Ratichian method of teaching the tongues speedily and skillfully. 
Communicated to his friends by the author himself, but now made the property of the public 
for the sake of stiidious youth. (Desiderata methodus nova Ratichiana, linguas compendiose 
et artificiose discendi Ab Autore ipso amicis comniunicata, nunc rere in gratiam studiosae 
Jnvetttutis Juris publici facta). Halle, 1615, p. 56. 



420 INSTRUCTION IN 

applying principles, until the whole Bible has thus been used.* At 
the same time, the forenoon is to be devoted to the rules of the gram- 
mar, and at other hours the letters of Luther, or of the chancellor 
Pontanus (Bruck) and SchurfF, are to be dictated and corrected by 
the rules of German grammar, as a practice in writing orthographi- 
cally. "When the German grammar, which is as it were an intro- 
duction to all languages, is well understood,'' the teacher is next to 
instruct them, as far as circumstances permit, in the rudiments of 
other studies. He is to acquaint them with the rules of logic and 
rhetoric "in this language.'' Then he is to proceed to arithmetic, 
then to music and geometry, until the pupil has reached his ninth 
year, if of average talent, and is thus well prepared for a more com- 
plete and detailed study of the sciences and the other languages. I 
have been somewhat fuller in these details, because they give the un- 
prejudiced reader a correct view of both of the correct ideas of Rati- 
chius and of his wrong-headed ones also. Much the most important 
and fruitful of all his conceptions was, his express declaration that the 
German language is that in which the elements of learning must be 
taught, and from which it is necessary to proceed to all the other 
lanoruasces. 

Ratichius found a favorable hearing for his reforms from many 
powerful and influential persons of the time. In 1612 he laid before 
the Imperial Government, at the Diet at Frankfort, a memorial upon 
his method ; Duchess Dorothea of Weimar, Prince Ludwig of Anlialt 
Kothen, the city councils of Frankfort and Augsburg, and the great 
Swedish chancellor Oxenstiern, took an active interest in the new sys- 
tem.f And what was for many reasons still more important, some of 
the most eminent learned men of the period upheld the views of 
Ratichius ; and above all the acute and comprehensively learned 
Joachim Jungius, and Christopher Helvicus, one of the best scholars 
of the day in Hebrew and the related languages. Both these men 
were at first carried rather too far by their zeal for the new doctrine ; 
but afterwards recovered from their over-estimation of Ratichius, 
without doing injustice to such of his views as were correct ; and de- 
clared themselves distinctly in favor of the employment of the Ger- 
man language for learned purposes.^ Jungius, besides his many 

* Tlif directions >jiven in the '"■ Desiderata methodus " for treating the German language, il 
we compare what is said of the "universal method," (p. 57), with the special directions 
about German (pp. 56-61), will coincide in the main with what is laid down from Kromayer, 
'^History of Pedagogy," ii., p. 23, et seq. Barnard's '•American Journal," vol. v., p. 234. 

t For details see "-History of Pedagogy" vol. 2. Barnard's ''■Am. Journal" vol. v., p. 250. 

X "■Joachim Jungius and his times (Joachim Jungius und sein Zeitalter)." By G. E. Guh- 
rauer, Stuttgard and Tubingen, 1830, p. 30, 31. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 421 

other labors, occupied himself with a German grammar ; and directed 
his efforts particularly to the object of establishing a German techni- 
cal language for learning. But his scheme, like so many other simi- 
lar ones, failed.* We shall however see that even in this respect, the 
labors of Jungius did not remain entirely without influence upon sub- 
sequent time. Helvicus, like Jungius, endeavored to clothe his own 
department of learning in a German garment. Unfortunately how- 
ever, he was snatched away by death in 161 V,f not Kving to see the 
appearance of his great work. His heirs, in accordance with his 
wishes, published his "Didactic hooks of Universal Grammar^ of Latin, 
Greek, Hebrew and Chaldee. Giessen, 1619.^ This work is nearly 
related to our subject ; for at the same time appeared another one by 
Helvicus in German, entitled "Grammar: I. Universal, including 
what is common to all languages ;' II. Latin ; III. Hebrew, written 
in German by the late respectable and very learned Herr Cliristophorus 
Helvicus, Doctor in the Holy Scriptures, and professor in, the honor- 
able university of Giessen ; and now printed for the benefit of 
beloved youth ; with the privilege of his Roman Imperial Majesty 
against reprinting. Printed at Giessen by Casper Chemlin, in the 
year 1619."§ The preface, signed by "the widow and children left 
by the deceased author," says that "The German grammar was pre- 
pared at the gracious command and ordinance of the Landgrave 
Ludwig of Hesse. It thus expresses the design of the work : "Here- 
tofore, and still, it has been and is the custom in the schools to in- 
struct tender youth who are beginning their studies, not in their 
native-bora mother tongue, but in Latin ; which is as entirely unknown 
to them as Arabic or Turkish ; which causes great confusion, weari- 
ness and waste of labor to the dear young people. For no grown-up 
intelligent man, not to mention a boy just beginning, could learn well 
an}^ thing taught him in a strange unknown language. To prevent 
such irreparable evils, our respective husband and father|| Cliristopho- 
rus Helvicus, now resting in God, had set forth grammar in our Ger- 
man language, and in an entirely consistent harmony, with great and 
persevering zeal, to the injury of his health, and at no small expense." 

* Guhrauer's Jungius, p. 43 ; p. 224, et seq. 

t lb., p. 44. 

t"Libri didaetici grammaticae universalis, Latinae, Graecae, Hebraicae, Chaldaicae." 
Giessen, M.DCXIX. 4to. 

§ " Sprachkvnste : I. Allgemaeine, welehe dasjenige, so alien Sprachen gemein ist, in sich 
begrei^l, II. Lateinische, III, Hebraische, 7'eutsch beschrieben Dutch Wet/land den Ehr- 
teuerdigen vnd Hoehgelahrten Herrcn Christophorum Helvicum Der H. Schrifft DoctOTem 
vnd bei der loeblichen Universitaet Giessen Prqfessorem. Vnd nunmehr der lieben Jugend 
zugutemin Truck gegeben. Mil Roem. Kaeis. Majestaet Freyheil nicht nachzutritckeii Zu 
Giessen getruckt durch Caspar Chemlin, in Jahr, M.DCXIX." 4tr. 

II The widow and chiMren sign the preface. 



422 INSTRUCTION IN 

The general grammar in German naturally coincides in the principal 
points with that in Latin. It is, however, not at all a mere translation 
of it, but is adapted to the nature of German just as the former is to 
the Latin, so far as the author's knowledge admitted. The Latin 
terminology is translated ; nomen is called Naennwort, verbum Sag- 
wort, casus Fall, &c. ; and although Helvicus would no doubt subse- 
quently have modified many of them, still he has been by no means 
pedantic in their use. He retains the terms "person," "declension," 
and "conjugation." The chief importance of this general grammar 
for us, however, is its establishment on the basis of the German lan- 
guage. The value of some of the brief remarks of Helvicus may 
be indicated, for example, by those upon the conjugations;* "Con- 
jugations differ according to the difterences of languages. Li Ger- 
man there are two : L That which in the imperfect ends with ete or 
te, and in the perfect with et ; H. That which in the imperfect 
changes the vowel, in the perfect ends with e?i." 

To this general grammar is added a Latin one and a Hebrew one,t 
with separate titles, but each title containing the words " written in 
German,"J A Latin grammar written in German in 1619, is a re- 
markable contrast to the German grammars written in Latin which 
we have discussed ; and very few of those who have in our own times 
written Latin or Greek grammars in German, as Buttmann, Zumpt, 
and so many others, have ever reflected that to do so was once a 
daring undertaking. 

However severely we may reprehend the errors of Katichius and 
his adherents, we can not deny them the great merit of having 
conquered a more honorable and useful standing in the schools, for 
the German language ; for from this time onward we shall see the 
Latin more and more driven out from its previous exclusive occu- 
pancy, and in its place, the German assuming a higher and higher 
position in the system of educational discipline. 

The reason why this movement first commenced in the seventeenth 
century, is to be found in the history of the German language for the 
previous one. Before the German could fairly demand to be substi- 
tuted for the Latin as a school language, it must of course have ac- 
quired a definite and universally recognized character as a written 

• p. 9. 

tGuhrauer (Jungius, p. 227), says " A special interest attaches to Helvich's section on the 
German language, which is entirely omitted by Ratich (or at least is quite left out of the copy 
before me, belonging to the library of the university of Breslau), and which is entitled to a 
place of its own in the history of the German language and grammar." If the section here 
referred to is a grammar of German, other than the general grammar above described by me. 
it is wanting in both the copies of Helvicus in tlie library of the university of Eriangen. 

J •' German " is ''Deutsch " in these titles, but in the general title it is "Teutsch." 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. ^po 

language. We have seen how Lutlier's language became predominant 
in virtue of these qualities, during the course of the sixteenth cen- 
tury. The writings of Ratichius and his associates show in innumer- 
able places, how closely they followed Luther, and how invariably 
they took for granted the recognition of his language as a standard. 
Ratichius commences his description of the requisites of a good 
teacher, with the following words :* "The teacher should be o? the 
true religion, which after the Reformation by Luther, we commonly 
call the Lutheran; as it is explained in the Augsburg Confession, in 
the "Formula of Concord," in the works of those who by comparing 
one part of the Scriptures with another have richly illustrated all the 
points of the true and correct meaning of the Holy Spirit." Luther's 
Bible was the principal text-book of the Ratichians, and they make 
constant reference to the writings and sayings of Luther.f 

The Philological Societies.— The Society for Usefulness.— The Floral Orders 
of Pegnitz. — Harsdorffer. 

The "original sin" of Germany, contemning whatever pertains to 
Germany and imitating whatever is foreign, was never more strongly 
and destructively manifested than at the period now to be spoken of. 
During the seventeenth century and in the beginning of the 
eighteenth, there seemed to be really danger that the German would 
become reduced to a lower class language, somewhat similar to the 
Esthonian of the German-Russian provinces on the Baltic ; so exten- 
sively had the upper classes given themselves up to the French lan- 
guage and manners. If the German philological societies of the 
seventeenth century aie considered with reference to this state of 
things, we shall place a high estimate on their strenuous efforts and 
good intentions, notwithstanding their sillinesses and extravagant esti- 
mates of themselves ; and we shall at least not under estimate the re- 
sults which they did actually accomplish. The same judicious prince 
who took such a hvely interest in Ratichius, Ludwig of Anhalt 
Kothen, was one of the founders of the first German phtlological so- 
ciety, which was established in 1617, at Weimar, the same place 
where the views of Ratichius were most favorably received. This so- 
ciety called itself the "Society for Usefulness,"! and adopted as its 

* Desiderata methodus, Halle, 1615, p. 9. 

t Desiderata methodus, p. 6. Guhrauer, Jungius, p. 31. Johannes Girbert mentions (m 
h,s grammafcal tables, more fully described hereafter), a ^^Grammatiea Vinariensis'' in the 
new method date 1618. I have sought in vain for this grammar in several of th^ largest 
libraries of Germany. I have since been informed by Prof. Massmann, who has been for a 
number of years occupied in researches re.specting Ratichius. that this Grammalica Vinarien. 
SIS exists at Weimar, and was written by Kromayer. 

J Fruchtbringende Gesellscha/I, literally, "Fruit-producing Society." 



424 INSTRUCTION IN 

symbol a palm-tree. The similar societies which had for a long time 
existed in Italy, furnished a model for these, and indeed occasioned 
them. The founders of the German societies set forth their purpose 
as being : " to establish in Germany also an association whose mem- 
bers should endeavor to speak and write good and pure German, and 
to do whatever might contribute to the elevation of the mother 
tongue."* This was certainly a most honorable undertaking, and at 
that time of great importance. But in their adherence to their Ital- 
ian models, and in following the taste of their age, the members of 
the society fell at the very beginning into a way of trifling over names 
and symbols which sometimes threatened quite to smother the whole 
of the excellent germ of their undertaking. Each member chose a 
symbol, and a corresponding society name, at iirst selecting terms 
from the trades of the miller and baker, and afterwards from the 
whole vegetable world, Herr Kaspar von Teutleben, the principal 
founder of the society, called himself "The Flour- abounding" {der 
Mehlreich), and took for his symbol a s.ick of wheat. Prince Lud- 
wig was called "The Nourisher;" Duke Wilhelm, of Weimar, "The 
Savory;" the younger prince Ludwig, of Kothen, "The Succulent," 
&c.f But notwithstanding these follies, we must honor princes who, 
in a period so troubled, devoted themselves to the best of their ability 
to the improvement of the German language. We shall hereafter 
find, in ''The Seeker'' (J. G. Schottel), and '-The Tardy'' (C. von 
Stieler),J men who applied themselves vigorously to the task of labor- 
ing upon the German language. 

The Society for Usefulness, having once set the fashion, found 
numerous imitators during that century. A great number of similar 
societies arose, characterized by the same silly use of names and sym- 
bols, but some of which, notwithstanding all their extravagance, were 
not without usefulness. I shall refer only to one of the best known ; 
the " Worthy Order of Shepherds and Flowers of Pegnitz."§ The 
founder of this society, Herr Georg Philipp Harsdorffer, an eminent 
patrician of Nuremberg, took the name of Strephon, and all his as- 
sociates adopted similar pastoral society names. Harsdorffer had al- 
ready been named "The Sportive,"|| as a member of the Society for 
Usefulness; and this name very well describes the character of this 

* '■'■History of the Society/or Usefulness (Oeschic/ite der FVuchtbringenden Gesellschaft)." 
By F. W. Barthoiri, Berlin, 1808, p. 106. I can of course only refer to the subject very cur- 
sorily in this place. 

t Bart hold, p. 109. 

t Reichard's "Attempt at a history of the German Grammar ( Versuch einer Historic der 
(ieutschen Sprachkunst)." Hamburg, 1747, p. 301. 

% Der lOldich Hirtenund Blumenorden an der Pegnitz. 

I ^^Der ii'pielend." Barthold, p, StiS. • 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 

• Pfgnltz Order of Shepherds and Flowers, which he founded in 1644 * 
But notwithstandincr his acknowledged childish and tasteless trait^s, 
we find in Harsdorffer many sound and valuable thonghts. In his' 
" Specimen of German Philology -\ he urges with great force the im- 
portance of the German language. He demands that youth should 
be taught the rudiments of their native language at the same time 
with those of the Latin.| He promises undying fame to that prince 
who shall first appoint in his university a professor of the German 
language.§ And finally, he expresses his conviction that the time 
wdl come, when the studious "can escape the monopoly possessed by 
the Latm, which is necessary only in the uppermost staws of the 
higher faculties, and can, so to speak, buy at first hand the^other arts 
and sciences."!! At the same time, Harsdorflfer, as the limitation in 
the above extract shows, is far from being wrong-headed and f^matical 
in his preference for the German. Although he is zealous for the 
avoidance of all unnecessary foreign words, he still expressly affirms 
that such words as Testament, sacrament, prophet, apostle, evange- 
hst, are not to be interfered with ;^ and he also expresses himself 
with much more moderation than many „f his cotemporaries, with 
respect to the innovations in German orthoo-raphy. The fact that 
Harsdorfier, notwithstanding all his correct views,\,ccomplished but 
very httle for the real benefit of the German language, and that his 
own productions are now read only as literary curiosities, may serve 
as a warning to us, not to place too high an estimate upon the lite- 
rary value and importance of labors bestowed upon the improvement 
of the German language and the mode of teaching it. Harsdorffer 
himself 9nd his cotemporaries afford a striking instance of the extent 
to which self-deception in this respect is possible. At the close of the 
Latin disquisitions from which the above extracts have been taken 
Harsdorfier has personified the German language, proclaiming her 
own praises in German verses. In these he has made every effort to 
extol the natural capacities of the German language. 

" Of sound like unto mine are all of Nature's voices. 
With crackle and with gurgle each rill and stream rejoices 
And lisps along the gravel with babbling splashing tone. 
That seems to laugh to scorn all tongues except my own " 



* I abbreviate the title. Those desirous of fuller information on this Order may i5„d it in 



^' lb., p. 228. 



426 INSTRUCTION IN 

And so on, to the end of the chapter. The contemner of the Ger- 
man language is disposed of as follows : — 

" For he has never read 
What I have done before, what I have now been made, 
And now my fair domain is strongly fenced about, 
No longer now to feel the critic's foolish flout." 

"Filip von Zesen," is usually quoted as a caricature of the German 
philological studies of the seventeenth century. And yet, even this 
pedantic eccentric, busy-Kody as he was, and driven about from one 
place to another, gives us an impression that, in spite of all his vanity, 
his intentions are good. 

But in this place, we can neither stop to examine his '■'■Instruction 
in the High German"* and his numerous other sigular productions, 
nor the High German orthography of Johan Bellin and other obso- 
lete reformers. 

Christian Gueintz and Johannes Girbart. 

Christian Gueintz, of Halle, stands in close connection with the 
labors of Ratichius on one hand, and the Society for Usefulness on 
the other. 

As a member of that society, his title was "The Regulator {Der 
Ordnend).'^ In 1641, he published at Cothen, ^^ Christian Gueintz' s 
Outline of German Grammar ^''\ Although Gueintz was acquainted 
with the grammarians of the sixteenth century, ClajusJ and Oelinger,§ 
still he and his eulogizers,|| show no small pride in this new under- 
taking of his. One of the complimentary poems prefixed to the 
book says: — 

" How German should be spoken, made pure, and purely writ, 
This grammar doth instruct ; which cometh to the day 
Because our mother-tongue disused and slighted lay. 
That she should thus remain all lawless was not fit." 

Gueintz himself commences his preface as follows : — " Although 
our mother-tongue has heretofore not been studied out of books, but 
received as if by nature ; has not been learned of teachers, but from 
our nurses ; not in the schools, but in the cradle, after the manner of 
the valiant and well-born Gracchi at Rome ; still, all things must 
have a beginning, except that faculty which God implants originally 
in reasonable creatures."^ We may observe in these words the stress 

* ^'Hooch-Deutsche Spraach-uebiing."^ 

t Christian Guein/zen, Deutscher Sprachlehre EnlwurJ." In the library at Berlin. 

J Outline, &c., p. 6S. § lb., pp. 8, 68. II Outline, fo. 1. H lb., fo 4. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. ^27 

whicli was at that time laid upon the attempt to arrange a fixed and 
correctly regulated course of school studies in German. The inter- 
mediate efforts of Ratichius constitute the chief point of distinction 
between the grammarians of the sixteenth and those of the seven- 
teenth century ; for it is easy to see how immediately the grammar 
of the latter is connected with that of the former. Luther* is still 
uncontestedly the most authentic voucher for good German ; and the 
imperial rescripts still preserve their ancient reputation.f Thus it 
strikes us as strange enough, when we find, added to these authori- 
ties, such others as " all the recent historical writers, Amadis, pas- 
torals, the Astraea, &c., the translations from de la Serre."J 

The views of Gueintz were quite in harmony with those of the 
educational innovators of his day; as appears, among other things, 
from his singular terminology. His attempts to replace Latin ex- 
pressions by German ones,§ is open to criticism only on the ground 
of being pushed too far. Many of these changes have been justified 
by time. His grammatical terminology, on the other hand, is a 
warning against arbitrary innovation. It is difficult to understand for 
instance, such a maxim as '■'■ Ber sonderbare zufal ist die vdlHffkeit;"\\ 
or the caption of the sixth chapter of the second book ; " Von der 
einfdchtigen endannemung des Mittelwortes.'"W 

Gueintz's " German Orthography {Deutsche Bechtschreibung),'" is 
an important work. It was " revised and published for consideration," 
by the Society for Usefulness; and appeared at Halle in 1645.** 

Johannes Girbert of Jena,ff is like Gueintz, closely related to the 
labors of Ratichius. Although Girbert's principal grammatical work 
refers to the earlier writings of Schottelius, I shall still place my ac- 
count of him before that of the lattei-, partly because Schottelius' 
principal work appeared after Girbert's and partly because Girbert 
adhered closely to the methods of the earlier grammarians. Like 
most of them, his first object is, a determination of the subject of or- 
thography. His book appeared under the title, ''German orthogra- 
phy from the Holy Bible, set forth for the instruction of boys, by 
Johann Girbert, rector of the gymnasium at Mulhausen. Mulhau- 
sen, printed by Joh. Huter, 1650." Fol.JJ His mode of handling 
his subject is peculiar. In his preface he inquires from what sources 

* Outline, pp., 4, 6. 

t ''German orthography {Deutsches Rechtschreibung)." Halle, 1645, p. 4. 
t Outline, &c., p. 7. § See the list, " Outline," &c., p. 122, et seq. 

II Outline, p. 11. ^ jb.^ p. J06. 

** In the Berlin library, where are also editions of 1666 and 1684, both at Halle, 
tt Girbert calls himself ^enensjs, in the title to his "-Logica," (Coburg, 1632. fo. 1). 
iX^'Teutsche Orthographi Auss der H.Bibel den Knaben zum Nochricht nuffgesetzt von 
Johanne Oirberto Gym. Mulhusini Rectore. Mulhusi Typhis, Joh. Huteri, Anno, 1650." 



428 INSTRUCTION IN 

youtli should be taught German orthography. " Should it be," he 
asks "from the Amadis, the pastorals, Jest and Earnest, Sir Pontus or 
Sir GalUnus, The Prison of Love, and the like ?" This idea he com- 
bats with all his might. The young, he says, " look in such books 
for good and correct language ; and find instead, abominable stuff." 
" They will therefore proceed on a much safer plan bv having recourse 
to the Holy Bible." To this end, Girbert gives a large number of 
•words whose orthography needs to be taught correctly, alphabetically 
arranged, and each having a verse from Luther's Bible given with it, 
in which it occurs. 

This pioneer work was soon followed by Girbert's principal one, 
" The German grammar or art of speech ; compiled with the aid of 
the grammars heretofore printed, especially those of Johann Claius, 
Jlertzberg, 158V; Weimar, after the neio method, 1618; Christ. 
Gueintz, Halle, 1641, March 24; Justus Georg Schottelius, 1641, 
July 6 ; arranged in brief tables, and published in compliance with 
many solicitations, by Johann Girbert, gymnasiarch pro tempore. In 
the Holy Roman Imperial city of Mulhousen in Dueringen, 1653. 
With privilege from the Elector of Saxony. Printed by Johann 
Huter. Grammar is the beginning and foundation of all arts.^^* 
Such is the long title of this small folio volume. Around it, in a 
separate border, are printed the words, "If our youth are well in- 
structed in the noble and perfect German tongue, they will the more 
easily attain to the knowledge of the others." 

All this indicates clearly enough views similar to those of Ratich, 
even to the characteristic fondness for tables. Girbert sets forth the 
whole of German grammar in seventy-eight detailed tables. Many 
things in these are very well, and others are singular enough. Thus, 
for instance, Table LXXIII, treats of "variations in arranging words." 
Here we are taught "how one sentence can be expressed in many 
different ways." As an illustration of the method given, one may 
take an example from Luke, xvi. ; "The rich man died also." The 
book proceeds to say, "This might be expressed by a German, a poet 
especially, in other ways, with a nominative; as, 'The rich man also 
laid down the tabernacle of the flesh,' or 'was obliged to leave this 
earth.'" Thus the sentence is tortured through thirty-four examples, 

* "Z>ie Deutsche Grammatica oder Sprachkunst, auss Denen bry dieser Zeit gedrucktcn 
Grammaticis, vornemlichen Johantt's Viaii, Hertzh. Anno, 1587. Vinariensis zum newen 
Methodo. Anno, 1618. Christ. Gueintzii, R. Htd., Anno, 1641. 24 Mart. Justi Georg 
Sehotttlii, Anno, 1641, 6 Jul. Zusammen getragen, in kurtze Tabelle7i eingeschrenkt,vnd 
Dem veffentlichen Liecht endlichen tiff 7nehrmahliches Anhrdlen vbergeben von Johanne 
Girbr.rto Gymnasiarch^, p. t. In des Heil. Roem. Raichs Stadt Muflhau.ien in Dueringen, 
Anno, 1653. Vnter Chur/iirstl. Sachs. Privikgio. Typis Johannis Hvteri. Grammatica 
ist der Anfang vnd Grund utter Kuenste." 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 429 

for the six cases, until it is dismissed at the ablative with these varia- 
tions : "The worms also ate their fill of the rich man, — The devils 
have had a good soup off the rich man in hell since he died." It is 
clear enough that there was sometimes at that day, not only method 
in their madness, but often also madness in their methods. 

Schottelius. 

The most valuable member of the Society for Usefulness, in the 
matter of investigating the German language, was Justus Georgius 
Schottelius.* He was born at Einbeck, in the then kingdom of 
Hanover, attended school at Hildesheim and Hamburg, studied law 
at Leyden, and at the same time applied himself to belles-lettres un- 
der the guidance of Daniel Heinsius. In 1638, Duke August of 
Wolfenbiittel, appointed him tutor to his son Anton Ulrich ; and 
under the patronage of the patriotic and learned duke, the collector 
of the great Wolfenbiittel Library, Schottelius now rose from one 
place of honor to another. In 1645, he was made consistorial coun- 
cilor ; in 1646, councilor at Wolfenbiittel; and subsequently privy 
councilor in chancery, and of justice. He was variously employed 
in important affairs by his prince, and remained in high favor with 
him until his death, in 1676.f 

In the Society for Usefulness, of which he became a member in 
1642, he received the title of "The Seeker."J Schottelius belonged to 
that band of honorable men who in the midst of the greatest afflic- 
tion of the German father-land, never ceased to cherish the idea of 
her greatness and splendor ; and who endeavored to find in the eleva- 
tion and improvement of the German language, some compensation 
for the political disgrace of their century. But while others were 
contenting themselves with merely praising the German language, 
Schottelius applied himself wilh most commendable industry to the 
improvement of its grammar. The fact that he devoted such leisure as 
was left him by a life of exacting duties, to such a painful labor, alone 
entitles him to high praise. Of the various grammatical works of 
Schottelius, we will at present consider particularly only two, one as 
being the most important of his productions, and the other on ac- 
count of its value for our purpose, as having a connection Avith the 
schools. Schottelius, after having at several times published the 
results of his labors on German grammar,§ collected together all 

* I print the name in the form used by Schottelius himself In the titles of his books. 

t Reichard's •^Attempt at a history of the German GTa?nmnr," p. 127. et seq. 

IBarthold, p. 327. 

^'■'German grammar. In three books (Teulschc Sprachi-unst. Abgetheilet in Drey 
Bwher)." Brunswick, 1641, 8vo. '■'■Introduction to the German language (Der Teulschen 
Sprach Einleitung)." Liibeck, 1648, 8vo. '■•German grammar, ■published for the second 



430 INSTRUCTION IN 

the treasures of his learning on the subject in the work of which the 
following is the somewhat long, but characteristic title : — 

'■'■Complete system of the proper German tongue ; in tvhick are in- 
cluded accounts of its origin, antiquity, purity, peculiarities, richness^ 
incomparability, correctness, also therewith fully set forth, the gram- 
mar and prosody of the German, and in good part of the Latin ; and 
likewise the reduplications, derivations, and introduction to the lan- 
guage ; authors on German manners and German language; of 
translation into German ; also, the root words of the German lan- 
guage, with their explanations, and many similar important matters. 
Divided into five hooks. By Justus- Georgius Schottelius, Court and 
Consistorial Councilor of Brunswick and Lunehurg, and Assessor 
of the High Court of Justice. Not only with privilege from his Im- 
perial Roman Majesty, hut also ivith the specialimperial approbation, 
as a work of general utility and eminent benefit to the German nation, 
as by the tenor of the Imperial Privilege here following.* Bruns- 
wick, printed and sold by Christoff Friederich ZilUgern, bookseller, 
M.DC.LXIIir\ 

The book is a stout quarto, of which the foregoing long title also 
gives the contents; except that they are almost still more a mixed 
compilation from both new and old books, than the title is. Of its 
five books, the first contains ten " Eulogies of the original German 
language;" the second, etymology; the third, syntax; the fourth, 
prosody ; the fifth, seven different treatises, of which the most im- 
portant are, one on German proverbs, and one on "Authors who have 
written on German history, nationality and language." The text of 
the book is German and Latin, but so arranged as rather to be sup- 
plementary to each other than to interfere with each other. The 
somewhat heterogeneous appearance of the book will the more easily 
be excused when we remember that its industrious author could 
devote to it only such leisure hours as his business left him. 

Schottelius differs from the grammarians of the sixteenth century, 
in that he not only endeavors to subject the language of his day to 
rules, but that at the same time he includes within the field of his 
labors, the history of the German language. Here as elsewhere his 
work is not free from confusion ; but he can not justly be refused 

time in 1651 {Tev.lsche Sprachkunst Zum anderen mahle herausgegeben im Jahr, 1651)," 
Brunswick. (The engraved title page which precedes the above has " Printed the second 
time at the princely residence of Wolfenbiittel, 1651. For sale at Brunswick," &c). 8vo. 
All these are in the library at Berlin. 

* See the privilege itself, an interesting document, on fo. 8. 

t ' Ausfuhrliche Arbeit Von der Teutschen Haubt Sprache, . . . Ausgefertigt von Justo- 
Georgio Schortelin, . . . Braunschweig, . . . Christoff Friederich ZilUgern, Bmhhdndler, 
Anno.M.DC.LXIIi:' 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 



431 



some merit. He divides the history of the German language into 
five epochs. The first begins with the first beginning of the language, 
the second with Charlemagne, the third with Rudolph von Hapsburg, 
"The fourth epoch will coincide with Herr Luther, who implanted in 
the German language all its beauty, ornament, impetuousness and 
exciting thunder, relieved it of many of its rugged inelegancies, and 
proved to the Germans what their language was capable of, if they 
should so resolve. And this testimony to Luther is borne both by 
those who like him and those who do not; and must still be given 
by every one, whether he hate him or love him, in that particular of 
the exemplification of the German language ; and may be drawn 
from observing how the German language has grown and become 
polished and enriched ; as clearly appears from the writings of all 
kinds which are every year appearing." Schottelius' definition of the 
fifth epoch is very remarkable. It shows, on one hand, as do the last 
words of the extract just given, an excessively high estimate of his 
own period, but on the other hand, that Schottelius had an entirely 
correct appreciation of the powerful movement which was carrying 
him onwards, and whose permanent effects we ourselves see before 
our eyes at the present day. " The fifth and last period," he says, 
"may correspond with the years during which the German language 
was freed from the corrupting practice of botching the language with 
ragged foreign terms, and restored to its native purity, beauty and 
chastity; when also correct and thorough piinciples and a method 
have been laid down for it, and have gained favor ; and when a com- 
plete dictionary has been prepared, by whose aid all can commodiously 
read and understand, the arts and sciences in their native tongue, and 
hear them spoken of."* While the German language as presented 
by Schottelius; notwithstanding the improvements just alluded to, is 
substantially the New High German of Luther, Schottelius still proves 
himself acquainted with his predecessor in the field of German gram- 
mar. He calls Ickelsamer's grammar "a good little book, but some- 
what too old ;"f and he knows Laurentius Albertus,J Oelinger,§ and 
Johannes Clajus.]! He is closely related to the followers of Ratichius, 
as a pupil of Joachim Jungius at Hamburg ;^ and his coincidences 
with Gueintz are numerous. Thus far, therefore, Schottelius is to be 
considered as standing upon the shoulders of his predecessors. The 
most important part of the work of definitely fixing the New High 
German written language, had been already done by the end of the 
sixteenth century. But when this task had been accomplished, there 

* Complete System, p. 49, t lb., p. 19. tlb, pp.4, 21, 

S lb., p. 4, II lb., p. 4. H Guhrauer, Jungius, p. 226, 



432 INSTRUCTION IN 

was still wanting au accurate knovvledge of the relation between the 
written and oral language. Approaches to this knowledge were to be 
made, however, by the more detailed adjustment of the written lan- 
guage, the decision of what was to constitute correctness and incor- 
rectness in it, and the preparation of a more finished system of its 
grammar. On these subjects we find in Schottelius valuable sugges- 
tions. He has a clear perception of the fact that he is writing a 
grammar of the " High German language ;" and that this " language" 
is not a mere dialect.* "The High German language" he says, "of 
which we are treating, and to which this book relates, is not a dialect, 
but the German language itself, as learned, wise, and skillful men 
have received and are now using it."f He expresses himself most 
vigorously in ojiposition to the assumption of the peojile of Meissen. 
" It is also," he says, " almost ridiculous to see one and another per- 
son, especially if he comes from Meissen, fancying himself entitled 
to be a judge and corrector of the High German language on ac- 
count of his own dialect."J Schottelius perceives clearly and cor- 
rectly, that the practical office of a grammar of the High German is 
precisely such as was that of the Greek and Latin grammarians, in 
maintaining the authority of the Attic and classical Latin, against the 
dialects. With reference to this point, he enters into the celebrated 
controversy of the ancient grammarians on analogy and anomaly ; 
selecting for himself a man between the two, but with a decided pre- 
ference for analogy.§ On all these subjects, Schottelius is entitled to 
the credit of speaking and deciding with learning and judgment. 
But this makes us only the more disinclined to follow hira at times 
when he entirely mistakes the real character of the language, and 
estimates far above their real value the labors of himself and his co- 
temporaries for the "radical correctness" of it. There is much truth 
in his remarks on the harm which he describes as having happened 
to the German language from " the uncontrolled, irregular and un- 
considered uncertainty" of the German language, ".so that up to this 
time it has never been able to fix upon any complete and recognized 
standard, as other languages have.| But we feel an equal degree of 
displeasure where he speaks, just afterwards, with profound contempt 
of the " vulgar usage," and says that "the vulgar usages of language 
are taught even from the cradle, and come as it were of themselves; 
but the proper language is learned only by learned directions and the 
exercise of industry and reflection."^ For such reasons, the estab- 

* Complete System, deriication to Duke Aiigiist. t lb., p. 174. 

t lb., p. 158. The remarks subsequent to this are also very worthy of attention. 
Mb., pp. 10. 11. II lb., p 1C7. 

^ The allusion in these remarks to a saying of the Romans may perhaps modify its harsh- 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 433 

lisbment of tlie Society for Usefulness seemed to him far the most 
important epoch in the whole history of the German language. 
" The German language," he says in his address to Ludwig of Anhalt, 
"has only ascended in iis rightful honorable road to an established 
and perfect state, since your princely grace first prepared, in a princely 
and most praiseworthy manner, the golden steps for such a career, for 
this most magnificent, rich, and perfect language."* 

In his large work, of which we have hitherto been speaking, 
Schottelius had complained that the young were so little instructed in 
German. " But," he remarks, " the scantiness of the instruction 
which the young receive in i(, and their consequent lack of skill in it, 
and of power to use their native language purely and correctly in the 
description of excellent, skillful or remarkable things, or to enjoy, 
praise and understand such skillful or useful things, sciences or vir* 
tues as' are written in it, is a matter which needs not statement, but 
rather laraentation.^'f This same fact was experimentally ascertained 
by Schottelius' friend. Prof. Christoph Sclirader of Helmstadt, general 
inspector of all the schools in the duchy of Brunswick. lie writes to 
Schottelius, under date of 18th of June, 1676, with expressions of 
great pleasure at seeing that the latter has at last begun the work 
which he (Schrader) had so long been bogging liim to undertake ; 
and saying that in the course of his inspection of the classical schools, 
ho was every year observing that the written tasks of tlie pupils con- 
tained almost more offences against the German language than 
against the Latin. He therefore most earnestly thanks his friend for 
having undertaken in the midst of his important ocoui aliens, to at- 
tempt a remedy for this evil. He proposes during his subsequent 
circuits, to strongly recommend this new product of Seliottelius' in- 
tellect and acuteness, to all teachers and pupils. For lie entertains a 
fixed hope that at some future day, the pupils in the schools, however 
industriously they study Latin orthography, will devote themselves 
with equal energy to that of the German.J In the same year, 1676, 
appeared at Brunswick, "^ short and fundamental int roduction to or- 
thography and etymology in the German language. Necessary and use- 

ness. What is correct in them should not be undervalued. It is their extreme opinions 
which constitute their error. 

* Complete System, p. 1000. The work of Schottelius shows abumlant evidence of the 
extent to which the interests of grammatical investigation suffered from the effects of such 
perverted views. He includes the strong verbs among the irregular ones, and gives them in 
his large work (pp. 578-603), alphabetically arranged. Even in the smaller edition (of 1676), 
he says, " Thus, the irregular German verbs can not be reduced under any certain rules, but 
must each be learned separately." (P. 159). 

t Complete System, fo. 7. 

t See Schrader's Latin letter prefixed to the smaller work of Schottelius, published; 
1676. 



434 INSTRUCTION IN 

ful for youth in school and elsewhere.^''* The name of Schottelius is 
not mentioued in the title ; but the matter of the volume sufficiently 
proves him to have been the author.f This little work deals chiefly 
•with orthography, including however in this idea, correctness in de- 
clining and conjugating ; and it draws from the author's larger work 
whatever is most necessary for practical use. To mention the particu- 
lars of what it contains would occupy too much space. I can only 
observe that one especial chapter, the fifth, contains an alphabetical 
list of words, "respecting which some doubt or error is liable to arise, 
either in respect to the sound, or the gender, or the article, or some 
other grammatical concord." In this place we find a very great num- 
ber of orthographical distinctions yet prevailing, clearly set forth ; 
such as dass (conj.) and das (pron.) ; Mann (man, husband) and 
mare (they, in "they say."J) The same correspondence with modern 
usage is found in many of Schottelius' rules. While therefore this 
author is very often only a collector of rules which were recognized 
before his day, still we must accord to him the credit of having exer- 
cised no small influence upon the more definite determination of the 
High German orthography. But how small is the assistance which 
this merit alone can give to the progress of the language, appears, in 
spite of himself, from Schottelius' own testimony, in the following 
citation from the preface to the " Introduction " :§ — 

"As to the requisites of Poesy, or the art of poetry, or the art of 
rhyming, it is abundantly and clearly evident in the German language, 
Avhat it is that constitutes regulated metrical composition and good 
German rhymes ; and what should and must constitute them. In 
like manner, whatever regards the art of speaking or rhetoric, is now 
well and universally set forth throughout all Germany, and testified 
to by all the multitude of writings, letters and decrees issued and 
proclaimed from the imperial, electoral, princely and other well or- 
ganized chanceries (including the numerous well-printed books) ; and 
by all their abundance, materials, transactions, circumstances and his- 
tory ; showing how the art of using correctly the beautiful and in- 
comparable High German language is known throughout the whole 

* The original title is repeated in German, viz : "Breui's et fundamentalis Manuducho ad 
Orthographiam et. Etymologiam in Lingua Gfrmonica. Kurtze und grundliche Anleitung 
zu dp.r Rccht Schreibung Und zu der Wort Forschung In der Teutschen Sprache. Pur die 
Jugend ill den Sclmlen, und so?ist vberall nkUzlich und dienlich." 

t In my copy, there is the superfluous evidence of the word " SchoUelii," vrritten in an 
ancient hand upon the title page. 

J Compare the opposite direction given in the orlhogra])hy of Gueinlz (Ilalle, 1645), pp. 
47, 48; and the repetition of it (making das [conj.] and das [pron.] written alike), in the 
edition of Halle, 1G84, pp. 47-8. 

§ This opinion of the historian is based in part on traits in the quaint antique German style 
of Schottelius, which are necessarily lost in the EngWsh.— {Translator) 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 435 

empire ; and showing also how much of ornament, skill, power, and 
elegance, and also how much thunder and lightning there is in the 
German tongue, if there is only forthcoming a hand or a tongue 
which is able to develop these and set them forth." 

Both the form and the substance of this extract sufficiently show 
that even the most genuinely respectable grammatical zeal will 
deceive itself about its own powers, if it attributes the prosperity of a 
language or a literature to its own labors. But I would also remind 
such as may be inclined to sneer at the oddities of this " phrase of 
the period of the Holy Roman Empire in the German nation,"* so 
much despised, was nevertheless infinitely preferable to the most 
elaborately adorned of the French idioms which many German states- 
men would substitute for it. 

Slieler. 

Caspar von Stieler, born at Erfurt in 1632, led a very changeful 
life. First a physician, then a theologian, then a military officer, then 
a privy secretary and court-councilor, he finally retired to private life 
and devoted himself to authorship. The Society for Usefulness 
elected him a member in 1668, and gave him the surname of "The 
Spade." In 1705 the emperor Joseph conferred nobility on him and 
his descendants. His last years were passed at Erfurt, where he died 
in 1101. \ Stieler's chief production is his '•'■Treasury of the German 
language,''\ which he published under his surname of "Tardy" at 
Nuremberg, in 1691. To this he subjoined a "Brief manual of the 
High German grammar." As Stieler has followed Schottelius in his 
principal doctrines, although with independent opinions of his own, I 
may discuss the work with brevity. His opinion on the relation be- 
tween the written and spoken language are similar to those of Schot- 
telius ; although his mode of defining this relation is worth mention- 
ing. In his address to elector Johann Georg of Saxony, to whom, 
along with Duke Anton Ulrich, of Brunswick, his " Treasury " is 
dedicated, he alludes to the cities of electoral Saxony " in which the 
High German language was auspiciously born, auspiciously brought 
up, and most auspiciously adorned and ornamented, and is even now 
daily receiving a renewed and increasingly beautiful polish ; I mean, 
magnificent Dresden, sacred Wittenberg, and that sweetest of all 
cities, Leipzig, which from its sugary treasuie of language imparts 
such a mollifying influence to the otherwise salty Halle, that it will 

* In the German one sesquipedalian word, viz., " HeiligenromischenreichsteutscheTna- 
tionsperioden."— (Translator.) 
t Reichard's '■^Altempt at a- history of German grammar ^^^ p. 299. 
t "Te.utscher Sprachschatz." 



436 INSTRUCTION IN 

never have cause to be ashamed of its pupils." " These excellent 
cities are therefore the standard of authority for the High German 
language ; just as Wittenberg, in particular, one hundred and seventy- 
years ago, laid the foundation of this state of things, by the transla- 
tion into German of that great book of God, the Bible."* But on 
the other hand, Stieler declares in his subjoined manual, with a cita- 
tion of Schottelius, that the High German is not a dialect at all ; 
since all the dialects, including even the Misnian, are not this High 
German, but contain erroneous variations from it.f " Therefore we 
set forth the German language in this book, not at all as a Germar 
dialect, but as a proper language, authoritative throughout ths em- 
pire ; just as heretofore was the case with the authoritative Greek 
language, which is not to be confused with its subordinate dialects, 
neither Attic nor Doric, nor -<^olic nor Ionic ; or as the Latin language 
was spoken and written within the country of Latium ; or as is now 
the case with the French J court dialect, called ' la langve de la cour^ " 

Morhof. 

Daniel Georg Morhof, the well-known " Polyhistor," (born at Wis- 
mar, 1639, and died at Liibeck, 1691,) holds an important place in 
the history of instruction in German. He was the first to endeavor 
to make the history of German poetry a department of school 
instruction ; an undertaking rendered more important by his adding 
to it a history of the later German poetry. The book in which this 
task was performed bears the title "Daniel Georg Morhof s instruc- 
tion in the German language and poetry, their origin, progress, and 
rules. Wherein are treated also, the rhymed poetry of foreign 
nations, and other mattersP^ 

In this book, Morhof connects himself on one hand with the im- 
portant work of Martin Opitz on German poetry, which appeared in 
1624, and exerted a lasting influence on all who came after him. 
And on the other hand, he was a precursor of the laboi-s by which 
Gottsched exercised so great an influence upon his cotemporaries. 
Indeed, how uncouth and rude soever some of Morhof s opinions may 
appear, his work must still be allowed to contain the first rudiments 

* Fo. 3, 4. 

t The passage from which I quote is made unintelligible in the original by an error of the 
press. The point after " Meissnisch " must be erased. 

X " Franzbische " in the original. See the article ^'FramSisch, und Franzosisch," in the 
" Treasury." 

§ ^^Daniel Georg Morhof en Unterricht Von Der Teulschen Sprache und Poesie, deren 
Uhrsprung, Fortgang und Lehrs'dtzen. Wobey auch von der reimenden Poelerey der 
Ausslaender mit mehren gehandelt wird." Kiel, 1682. I use the copy from the Berlin 
Library. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 437 

of tbe system afterwards carried to such perfection by Herder and 
his followers. 

Morhof s book consists of three parts. The first treats of " The 
German language," its excellence, antiquity, derivation, &c. The 
second discusses "The origin and progress of German poetry." This 
is much the most important part of the whole book. In it, Morhof 
first gives accounts of the poetry of foreign nations, the French, 
Italians, Spanish, English, and Dutch. The French, he respects 
and over- values. "We begin," he says, "with the French; which 
nation may justly be preferred over others for intellect, and capacity 
for poetry."* He however expresses independent opinions about the 
poetry of other nations. But aside from this, the mere possession of 
so much information of the Eurojiean poetry of that day gives 
Morhof's book an important value. Morhof is the first author, so far 
as is known, who mentioned the name of Shakspeare in Germany ; 
and his reference to the greatest modern dramatist is sufficiently 
curious. "John Dryden," says Morhof, " has written on dramatic 
poetry well and learnedly. The English authors whom he quotes 
under this head are Shakspeare, Fletcher, Beaumont ; of whose 
works I have seen none."f Morhof follows his account of foreign 
poetry with the history of that of Germany, from its earliest beginning 
down to his own times. This he divides into three periods. The first, 
includes all before Charlemagne ; the second, from Charlemagne t^ 
the beginning of the seventeenth century ; the third, begins with 
Martin Opitz ; " because under the guidance of Herr Opitz, German 
poetry awakened again as it were out of the grave, and assumed much 
more splendor than before."^ 

The third principal division of Morhof's book treats of " German 
poetry in itself considered ;" and here he introduces some account of 
the usual chief subjects of grammatical works, orthography, etymology, 
and syntax, proceeding to things more strictly poetical ; such as rhyme, 
invention, epics, odes, &c. 

Bodiker. 

Johann Bodiker, who was born in 1641, and who was, from 1673 
until his death in 1695, conrector and afterwards rector of the Coin 
Gymnasium at Berlin, published in 1690, a German school grammar, 
with the title '''■Princ'vples of the German language in speaking and 
writing.''''^ The book deservedly met with great success, especially 

* P. 154. t P. 250. X P. 422. 

§ ^•Grvnd-Sdtze Der Deutschen Sprachen Inn Reden vnd Schreihen." I have used the 3d 
edition, Berlin, 1,709, 8vo. ; which, Reichard says (p 288) is unchanged, except § 69. 



438 INSTRUCTION IN 

in consequence of the author's historical researches. He follows 
Schottelius in many matters.* But his book is fuller than the small 
outline of Schottelius, and much more convenient than his larger 
work. His rules are mostly short and practical. He gives the High 
German the same precedence over the dialects, which Schottelius had 
allowed it. But the superstition about the Misnian dialect was even 
then very firmly fixed, as appears from his observation, (p. 211,) that 
"The Misnians and Upper Saxons come next to it (the High German) 
in purity of expression." But he says, again, on (p. 212,) "One 
born a Low Saxon, Marker, Pomeranian, Westphalian, Brunswicker, 
&c., can speak High German with purity better than those of Upper 
Germany." Bodiker lays special stress on syntax ; saying expressly, 
" Syntax is the principal part of grammar."f His estimate of the 
German language is very high. He values it above the Greek and 
Latin,J because it is " fuller, stronger and richer."§ The other nations 
of Europe will scarcely agree with the letter of our grammarian's 
assurance that "In the last century it (viz., the German language) 
first assumed a proper condition ; and during the present century 
(the seventeenth, that is,) it has been carried to the highest pitch of 
elegance."!! Bodiker has the utmost respect for Luther's style, how- 
ever; considering it superior to all others. In recommending the 
reading of good German books, he urges the study of Luther, above 
all, upon the young. I will quote the leading sentences from the 
paragraph on this. subject, as they are important for other reasons.^ 
The passage begins, " In order to acquire a good style of reading and 
speaking German, it is necessary to read good German books." And 
the author then proceeds, in explanation, to add, "That is, those 
written in good, old, true, sound, strong German. And especially, as 
has been already said,** the German Bible is valuable for this pur- 
pose, besides innumerable other benefits. And furthermore, the 
writings of Herr Luther. The Imperial decrees. The observations 
of Goldast and of Londorf."f f I will cite further only the following : 
" The good German poets will all also contribute their aid. But it is 
proper that youth should be warned against the fantastic dreams of 

* See for instance, p. 95, etseq., on regular and irregular conjugation. We find, again, on 
the other hand, at p. 30, the present rule given for initial capital letters ; in contradiction of 
Schottelius' Introduction, p. 30. Bodiker, (p. 1,) calls Schottelius his predecessor. 

t P. 217, Bodiker uses "TVor?/"«^Mn^" for " syntax," like Schottelius, (Complete System, 
pp. 691-2, et scq.) 

tP. 417. §P. 418. HP. 415. irp. 411. 

** Referring to p. 40, where he says of Luther's Bible, " But there is no better book among 
those in the possession of the Germans, than the German Bible, in the translation of that 
deceased man of God, Herr Luther, This is a treas\ire above all treasures ; and few nations 
possess a book so pure, clear, strong, wise, powerful and moving." 

\\ Compare what has been said before of Luther and the imperial decrees. 



THE GEUMAN LANGUAGE. 



439 

amorous composition, and should avoid them like poisonous herbs. 
Especially should Amadis, and such corrupting writings, be avoided. 
As to romances, I shall shortly speak of them, in the section on 
prosody.* I should not so frequently refer to the writings of Ilerr 
Luther if I had not found his German style better than that of any 
one else; not to mention, besides his language, his excellent Christian 
and edifying matter. The young may well consider what that excel- 
lent historian Sleidan has said to his praise in this particular : ' He 
both very much adorned and enriched the German language, and at- 
tained the highest reputation as a writer in it.' " 

That the excellent old German rector not only recommended the 
study of Luther to others, but also disciplined himself in it, the reader 
•will readily gather from the plain significant style of the few extracts 
which I have given, if he will compare them with those from Schot- 
telius and Stieler. 

Johnnn Leunkard Frisck. 
After Bodiker comes another Berlin rector, undoubtedly one of the 
most important of those who have devoted their talents to the investi- 
gation of the German language. Johann Leonhard Frisch was born 
in 1666, at Sulzbach, in the Upper Palatinate, attended school at 
Nuremberg, studied theology at Altorf, Jena, and Strasburg, and 
afterwards lived an adventurous life of travel through Germany, France, 
Italy, Hungary, Turkey, and Holland, until he was appointed, in 1698, 
sub-rector at the gymnasium of the Grey Friars' monastery at Berlin. 
In 1706, he was chosen on the recommendation of Leibnitz, whom 
he had instructed in Russian, member of the Royal Prussian Academy 
of Sciences, and, in 1726, rector of the gymnasium at Berlin. He 
died at an advanced age, in l743.f Frisch was a man of a very dif- 
ferent grade from most of those whom we have thus far mentioned. 
His learning in German philology was incomparably more thorough 
than that of Schottelius ; and is especially distinguished by having 
labored most zealously throughout a long life in grammar and lexi- 
cology, without losing his intellectual freedom, or falling into pedantic 

* I can not resist the temptation to subjoin at least the beginning of the passage here referred, 
to. On reading romances, we <ind a paragraph, (p. 4S4,) with the heading, " Romances da 
the young more harm than good." The commentary which follows begins thus : " Roman, 
ces have never pleased me. Tliey are an abortion, brought forth by France, as was Amadis 
by Spain. There is uo poetry, and no true history, in them. Incredible and impossible deeds 
are ascribed to their knights, and their women in knights' costume. Moreover, they must of 
course all be lovers; and they bring many licentious tricks to market. Then, their travels 
are all so confused together, as if it were always summer in all countries. The knights can 
talk with everybody in every country, in all languages, without any interpreter," &c. 

1 I take these notices from J. J. Wippel's life of Frisch, Berlin, ir44, 8vo ; and regret that 
I am unable to devote more space to the life of this remarkable and useful man, who applied . 
himself with equal zeal to natural and philological science. 



440 INSTRUCTION IN 

habits. -Ilis great work in Lis German-Latin dictionary, wLicli ap- 
peared at Berlin in 1741, in two volumes large quarto, far surpassing 
all previous works of its kind. Our attention is however at present 
due more especially to Frisch's labors for German grammar for 
schools. I do not mean that the results of these labors were particu- 
larly extensive in his own day ; but that it is remarkable to find the 
best philologist of his time entertaining views so sound, so wise, 
and still so liberal, in the best sense of the word, on the subject of 
school grammar. In 1723, Frisch published a new edition of 
Bodiker's grammar, already mentioned. Its title was: — '■'■The princi- 
ple s of the German language^ by Johannes JBodtker, rector of the 
Cologne Ggnasium at Berlin; republished for the most part, and 
improved and enlarged with quite new remarks, and a full register of 
such words in the German Bible us require some exjjlanation ; also 
with an appendix, containing an outline and specimen of an authori- 
tative German dictionary ; by Joh. Leonh. Frisch. Berlin, Christoph 
Gottlieb Nicolai, 172.3."* This title would indicate, at a glance, no 
very great undertaking. But upon a careful examination of the 
paragraphs, the matter will be found very frequently to be entirely 
new. Frisch is therefore justified in saying in his preface, " that it 
was intended to preserve a monument to the memory of the deceased 
author ; for that the material of the books are such that they might 
well have been published imder an entirely new title."f Frisch's 
principal subject, as with all his predecessors, is German orthogra- 
phy. This department of grammar, broadly considered, enters into 
all the other departments; and especially, it often obliges us to 
decide the question what is or is not to be considered as belonging to 
the written High German dialect. Frisch very much abridges 
Bodiker's explanations on this head ; omitting what I have quoted 
from the latter on the Misnian and Low German dialects, and defin- 
)ng the High German as follows : — " The High German language is 
not the peculiar dialect of any one race or nation of the Germans, 
but has grown to its present perfection out of all thase dialects, by 
the industry of learned men, and from the style adopted by the writ- 
ings of learned men and by the oral usage of many eminent persons, 
throughout Germany ."J 

* "Johannis Bodikeri, P. Gymn. Suevo-Colon. Rect. Grund-Sdtze tier Teuisthen Sprache 
Meistetis mit Gan^ andern Anmerkungen und einem viilUgern Register der VVSrter die in 
der Teutsehen Ueberselzung der Bibel einige ErUiHterung erfurdern Audi zuyn Anhange 
viit einem Entwurff und Muster einea Teutschen Haupt-Worter- Bucks Verbessert und 
vermehrt von Joh. Leonh. Frisch. Berlin, Verlegts Christoph Gottlieb Nicolai, 
MDCCXXIII." 

t Preface, fo. 3. 

} p. 275' The farmer pjirt of tl\e extract is Bodiker's, the latter Frisch's. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 4^j 

Friscb's position on the subject of orthography is as strongly op- 
posed to the superfluities and Ignorance of the innovators of his time, 
as to the pedantic champions of the obsolete methods. lie is 
especially earnest in insisting that thorough historical knowledge is 
necessary to deal with the subject. " Any one," he says, " who has 
not an adequate collection of such materials* . . . should re- 
frain from handling the subject ; for he will be sure to be ranked 
among those unlucky philological quacks of whom a long catalogue 
might already be made out. For every sorry writing-master who has 
barely mastered calligraphy, must needs give rules for orthography ; 
not to mention others, etymologists with privately interested motives, 
and vain self-appointed popes in language."! Improvements in lan- 
guage must be made slowly, and with caution and thorough knowl- 
edge. " One who undertakes alone to carry this point by storm," he 
says in another place,J " will be shamefully repelled by those very 
numerous persons who either can not or will not depart from the old 
beaten track. And those who would proceed by storm commonly in- 
troduce by their ignorance ten faults where they detect one. Mining 
is the proper mode of assault; and the best place for doing this is iu 
the large schools; where peisons of all ranks may be so trained up 
that they will take more pleasure in aiding to introduce a reasonable 
usage than to help maintain an unreasonable old one. It will suffice 
at first to instill a degree of indifterence to j>edantic writing-master's 
rules, and to diminish the burden which ihey have laid upon the 
young and unlearned." But it would be a mistake to suppose that 
Frisch argues here in favor of arbitrary changes. "Orthography," he 
says,§ " is the noblest pillar of any language ; and therefore of the 
German." Such is the tenor of one of his paragraphs ; and in a veiy 
carefully considered further statement of the idea he says, "The 
basis of this pillar is commonly the principle that the spoken sound 
is the rule ; we must write as we speak. But because there are so 
many different German dialects, many of the German foundation- 
makers have fallen into error by concluding, each that the dialect to 
which he has been accustomed from birth is the only correct one. If 
every one were to proceed on this principle, and write as he speaks, 
there would be as many daughter-languages, even in the writing, as 
there are countries and cities in Germany. A general rule for writ- 
ten language has therefore been sought; and has resulted in that 
German language called the High German. All intelligent people 

"That is, "thorough treaties on etymology, analogy, or other philological subjects, by 
whose means a language may be reduced to rule or illustrated." 
t p. 40. t Preface, fo. 4. § P. 33. 



442 INSTRUCTION IN 

maintain that this is the authoritative language ; and prevent and 
avoid all introduction of the so-called dialects." 

General View of the Instruction in German, in the Seventeeth Century and 
first half of the Eighteenth. 

The account which I have given of the German grammarians of 
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, is so drawn up that the 
reader can represent for himself the mode of giving instruction in 
German which prevailed in the schools during that period. As I 
began the present chapter, however, with a comprehensive retrospect 
of the sixteenth century, I will close it with a survey of the progress 
of the subsequent century and a half. At the beginning of the seven- 
teenth century, the problem to be solved during the approaching 
period was already shadowed forth by Ratichius and his followers. 
This was, the establishment of the German language, in its proper 
and impoilant place in the institutions of classical learning as well as 
elsewhere ; and also as an organ of communication — in part at least — 
instead of the Latin. We find a great variety of attempts in this 
direction during the seventeenth century. Helvicus undertook to 
treat general, Latin and Hebrew grammar, in the German language. 
Harsdorffer, Schottelius, and many others, insisted upon the import- 
ance of instruction in German ; and foretold the time when all learn- 
ing should assume a German garb. The works of these authors on 
German grammar, especially on orthography, are in part rude and 
pedantic. They however fuliilled the demands of their day upon 
them ; to establish in all its details as a written language, the High 
German, handed down to them by the sixteenth century in a state of 
substantial completion. The task of the seventeenth century in this 
department was not that of creative genius, like that of Luther, or 
of Lessing, Goethe, and their cotemporaries, two or three hundred 
years later ; it was one of labor and drilling, painful, wearisome, often 
vain, but on the whole thorough and efficient.* The individual 
champions of this movement often make a disagreeable and some- 
time even ridiculous impression upon ns, by their pedantic and inele- 
gant forms of thought and expression ; and their writings are fre- 
quently the more distasteful, not only because they have themselves 
only half escaped from the Latin straight-jacket which they are try- 
ing to ged rid of, but also because they are often contaminated by 
the foreign French phrases which were just coming in, and against 
which likewise they fought manfully, according to their knowledge. 
And here also we come upon a singular phenomenon, viz., that the 

* Compare the position occupied by OpitE in tlie department of German poetry. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 443 

Germans, in order to rid themselves of an old and obsolete state of 
things, applied themselves to a foreign nation of the Romance race, 
and who had already long before taken exactly the steps which they, 
were themselves endeavoring to take.* There is a striking instance 
of this in the case of one of the advocates of the establishment of 
German as the language of schools and learning — Johann Balthasar 
Schuppius, who died 1661. "Wisdom," Schuppius observes, "is not 
bound up in any one language ; why should I not be able to learn to 
know, love and honor God in the German language, as well as in 
the Latin ? Why should I not learn how I can aid a sick pei-son in 
German, as well as in Greek or Arabic ? The French and Italians 
teach and learn all the faculties and liberal arts in their native lan- 
guage. There is many a cardinal and many a great prelate in Italy, 
who can not speak Latin."} The stout German nature of the worthy 
Schuppius preserved him from adopting niuch that was French ; but 
these remarks of his may serve to explain many phenomena which 
at first seem in themselves contradictory. It was the splendor of the 
French court and the politics of Louis XIV., which seduced the Ger- 
man nobility into their miserable surrender to French fashions ; but 
it was the fact, already alluded to, that the French had preceded us 
in the installing of their native language in its just rights, which be- 
trayed the greatest German philosophers of the seventeenth century, 
and the greatest German princes of the eighteenth, into the adop- 
tion of the French language. Leibnitz, however, although he wrote 
his principal philosophical works in French, was the best exponent of 
these labors in behalf of the German language which characterize 
his century. To prove this assertion, however, I should be obliged to 
transcribe the whole of his " Humble suggestions resipectmg the prac- 
tice and improvement of the German language. ''^'^ When Christian 
Thoraasius, in 1687, announced at Leipzig the first university course 
of lectures in German, he did so by means of a printed " Discourse, 
upon the fashion in which it is proper to imitate the French in or- 
dinary life and conduct ;" which he fastened upon the blackboard as 
his programme for the course. But after the accounts which I have 
given, the contents of this programme will not appear very remark- 
able to my reader, nor will he consider the action of Thomasius a 
surprisingly bold one, however great its importance may have been. 

* See above, p. 398, on Aventinus, and also, more particularly, below, in the section on 
Gottsched. 

t -'The German Teacher," in the "Instructive writings {Lehrreiche Schrifflen)," of Joh. 
Balth. Schuppen, Franckfurt-on-the-Maine, 16S4. P. 900. 

X'^'Unvorgreiffliche Gedancken, betreffend die Ausiibung und Verbesservng der Teutschen 
Sprache." 



444 INSTRUCTION IN 

He merely carried out to carapletion an idea originated at the begin- 
ning of his century, and which had enlisted the labors of hundreds 
of learned men ; namely, the introduction of the German language 
into use in the higher grades of instruction. 

Toward the end of the seventeenth century, and in the former 
half of the eighteenth, we find the advocates for the use of German 
in schools and instruction increasing in number so rapidly that what 
was a hundred years before a bold innovatioff, may now be considered 
a predominant belief. Educators in all the countries of Germany 
united in the advocacy of this measure; the number of German 
school grammars became so great that I can refer only to a few of 
the more important ; and the official reports upon the course of study 
of many classical schools shows the profound influence of these 
labors. Whereas it had been previously the custom to write even on 
German grammar in Latin, even the school grammars of Latin now 
began to appear more and more frequently in German.* German 
school comedies took the place of the previously usual Latin pieces.f 
Incessant practice in speaking Latin was no longer necessary, since 
German had replaced Latin as a school language. Even in the uni- 
versities, the innovation of Thomasius rapidly grew in favor. Before 
the middle of the eighteenth century, the learned Johann Matthias 
Gesner declared that the able scholars in Latin had in part come out 
for the plan of teaching German, in order that the Latin language 
might be prevented from becoming entirely corrupted by the half- 
barbarous set who were defending it. " The German language," he 
writes, " is making rapid progress ; and in a short time will be 
decidedly predominant. At the present time (1742) not even royal 
commands can prevent the practice of teaching in German."J 

I presume that these observations have sufficiently described the 
progress of the German in the schools during the seventeenth and 
eighteenth centuries. I can not of course detail the extent to which 
each individual classical institution adopted its use ; but will conclude 
this chapter by a few instances of the kind, in order to give a more 
accurate idea of it. In Halle, the adoption of it was mainly due to 
the efforts of that indefatigable laborer for all grades of education, 
August Hermann Francke. He found that the students in theology 
were incredibly ignorant of German orthography. " This defect," he 
observes, " is commonly the fault of the schools, where only the 
Latin translation of the exercises is corrected, but the German not ; 

* See '^Journal of Education,'" vol. ii., p. 371., et seq. I need not repeat at length what 
was there said, 
t lb., p. 009. ; lb., p. 000. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 445 

SO that ortbograpliy is not learned at all."* Francke induced 
Hieronymus Freyer, inspector of the Halle Pedagogium, to write a 
work which has been much used ; his ^^Introduction to German Or- 
thography^'' Halle, Vl11.\ In Brunswick, where Schottelius and 
SchraderJ had already labored to promote the use of German in the 
schools, the excellent rector of the Catharine's school, Johann An- 
dreas Fabricius.§ continued the enterprise. In the celebrated institu- 
tion at Schulpforta, near Naumburg, associate principal Salomon 
Hentschel, found the German of the pupils as faulty as Francke had 
done at Halle. He exerted himself to remedy the evil ; and hence 
resulted his "Fundamental rules of the High German language,"! 
Naumburg, 1729. We have already become acquainted with the 
two most eminent German grammarians of the end of the seventeenth 
and beginning of the eighteenth century, who were established at 
Berlin — Bodiker and Frisch.^ At Hamburg, may be mentioned 
Hermann Wahn, associate principal of the John's school, who pub- 
lished, in 1720, a German Orthography, and afterwards a whole Ger- 
man grammar.** Upper Saxony had already long been one of the 
principal seats of the labors for promoting the use of the German. I 
barely refer to Wittenberg, in the sixteenth century, W^eimar, in the 
seventeenth, and Leipzig, in the eighteenth ; as well as to what has 
already been said of Meissen,f f Dresden, and Leipzig. I should here 
mention, as of interest with reference to the schools, the German- 
Latin and Latin-German Donatus published by Job. Gottlieb Vorsatz, 
pastor at Zeitz, "for attaining the primary grade of knowledge in 
both these tongues."|J The report of Rector Feuerlein, for 1690, 
shows what a strong foothold the German language had obtained at 
the school in Nuremberg.§§ In the extreme west of Germany, 
Johann Jacob Schatz, rector of the gymnasium at Trasbach, on the 
Mosel, labored efficiently as teacher and author, for the improvement 
of the instruction in German in the gymnasia. |||| Equal zeal for the 

* See tlie whole passage this Journal, toI. v., p. 448, and compare Schrailer's expressions 
to Schottelius in 1676, above, p. 429. 

t ^^Anipeisiing der Teutschen Orthographie.'" See its preface, fo. 2, 3. 

J See above, p. 433. 

§ Compare, amongst other works, Amarante's " Shepherd and Floieer Orders," pp. 827^ 
835 ; and also, on Fabricius and the others here mentioned. E G. Reichard's '■'History of 
Gerinan Grammar," Hamburg, 1747. 

II ^'Grundregeln der Hoch-Det/tscken Sprache.'' 1 See above, pp. 437, 439, 

** The references in the "History of Pedagogy," to the Hamburg school ordinance of 
1732, will be found on being compared with Sturm ami Trotzendorf, to indicate rather an ad- 
vance in the use of German than otherwise. 

tf The adjective "Misnian " has been used. — (Translated.) 

tt Published at Hildburghausen and Meiningen, 1745. Svo. 

§§ See this Journal, vol. vii., p, 370. 

BO He published ^'Thorough and easy method for enabling children, as well in public 



446 INSTRUCTION IN 

cause prevailed in the south-east of Germany also ; and Austria con- 
tributed its contingent to the mass of German grammars and or- 
thographies that now appeared. Of these I will name but one ; the 
'■'■Imperial German Grammar^''* of Johann Balthasar von Antesperg, 
which appeared at Vienna, in 174Y. 

CHAPTER III. — GOTTSCHED AND ADELTJNG. 

After the middle of the eighteenth century, the number of German 
grammars, introductions to German orthography, German composition, 
&c., increased in a degree which was matter of pleasure to many, but 
perhaps even of terror to many others. The favorable feature of the 
case was the fact of the increase of interest in the German language 
and German literature ; the unfavorable one, that so many more 
unfit persons than previously were trying their fortune in this depart- 
ment. Were I to treat the period from 1750 to 1850, on the same 
scale as the previous ones, even the mere enumeration of titles of 
books would require more space than I can devote to the whole sub- 
ject. But at the same time, even the strongest advocate of modern 
times can not deny that the intrinsic value of this mass of books is 
mostly very small. Good will must too often be called in to make up 
for the defects in character. Accordingly, any one who devotes him- 
self to the task of giving full estimates of these numerous works on 
grammar, style, &c., will often find himself under the necessity of 
either passing a sentence more harsh than is deserved upon the re- 
sults of a zeal which though ignorant is well-intended, or of mislead- 
ing his readers by some faint commendation. And moreover, the 
writers of this period who are really meritorious, are in fact, known 
at the present day as well as they deserve, and their works are every- 
where accessible. I have therefore chosen to state the principles ac- 
cording to which opinions should be formed in these points, in my 
second book ; and in this place, to go no further than to say as much 
of Gottsched and Adelung, the two greatest names of the period in 
question, as may serve to introduce the reader to the great revolution 
in this department of learning, which has been produced by the 
labors of the brothers Grimm. f 

schools us by private instruction, to learn in a short time and with little effort, the art of read- 
ing intelligently and writing plainly (Grhjndliche und leichte Melhode Wie man sowoht in 
offentlichen Schu/en als auch durch Privat- Information denen Kindern die Kunst vcrstiind- 
tich zu lesen und deutlich zu schreihen in Kurtzer Zeit und mil leichter Mvhe beybringen 
mSge)," &c. Biidingen, 17'25. 8vo. 

* ^'■Kayserliche Deutsche Grammatik." 

t From the period from 1750 to 1836, many titles of books will be found in Hoffman's 
"German Philology {Deutsche Philologie)," Breslau, 1836. And compare the continuation 
of Reichard's work, already often referred to, in Riidiger's "Latest advances of German, 
foreign und general g rammar {Neueste Ziiwachs der deutschen,fremden und allgemeiticn 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. . -w 

Of course the new impulse received by German literature since tbe 
middle of the eighteenth century, was felt in the department of the 
school course appropriated to the language. I do not here refer to 
the occasional contributions of a few eminent writers to some of the 
earlier favorite pursuits of German educators, especially in the depart- 
ment of orthography. Klopstock's writings in favor of orthographi- 
cal innovations, and Hamann's humorous opposition to them, were 
without any lasting influence on the character of German grammar. 
What I mean is, the change produced by the revival of our litera- 
ture upon the whole treatment of the German language in the higher 
and middle schools. Literary knowledge, good taste, and correct 
style, now assumed an important place in the schools. This new 
fact may be perceived in the introduction and increasing use of col- 
lections from the best German prose and poetical writers, adapted to 
the demands of a public possessed of some cultivation, and more 
particularly to the schools. In this department also, the first half of 
the eighteenth century affords a few pioneers, but there is a surpris- 
ing difference between their labors and the vast mass of what has 
since been accomplished of a similar kind. 

But the most striking indication of the increasing estimate placed 
on the German language is to be found in the school laws passed by 
the different German governments, during the second half of the 
eighteenth century. 

Gottschcd. 

The more deeply we penetrate into the connections of different 

Sprachk,a^dey' Leipzig, 1785. Part 4. But I am far from intending to undervalue what is 
good .n the labors of a more recent time. I shall hereafter have occasion to refer to the ser- 
vices which Becker, notwithstanding his errors, has rendere.l. With him should be men- 
t.oned Herhnff : whose ^^Gmund rules of German S„jl, (Grundre^cln des deulschen Sm)," 
Frankfurt.on-.he.Man.e, 1823, precded the works of Becker, and was republished in an en- 

arged form .n 1832, as the second part of a " Syntax of the Gern>an Language." Amon. 
those who have labored to apply the investigations of Crimm to the use of the school ^ram' 
mar of the New ni,h German, I would place first R. A. Ilahn, ^'Nno High German School 
GrammarANeuhochdeutsche Schu!srurnmatik,r 2u e.l, Cla,>..thal, ISr.sl and ^^Nero Hi^h 
0«r,,m« £/.,„.„v,,.y Gra,nmar,^Neahochdeutsche Elementargrammatik.r i^\, ed. Clausthal, 
1856 ; Fnedr.ch Koch, ^^German Grammar, [Deutsche Grammalik.)" 2d ed., Jena 1854) • F 

matrk) 3d ed., Nordhngen, 1853; and the writings of Kehrein and Vernaleken. The 

re w r'f",f T"f " """"""' °' '• '''■ ■"■ "^^^'^' ^^'""^ '° ^ P"'"'^ »'^<'--« 'hat of the 
renewal of the foundations of German grammar by the Grimms, and also before that of the 
reform of Becker. Ileyse's labors have been materially improved by the studies of his son 
K. nejse. n his own way, the deserving M. W. Gotzinger rendered many services to the 

of d^ren m't;? ." '"' ''''• ' ^'"' "^"^ '"^"''""^'^ ""'^ individuals, as exponents 

TZZr "X J" r:"' °"'^ P'"''^" of instruction in German. On this head I refer 
o my second book. But however great the labor yet undone in the department of German 
school gran,r|,ar, those who have already done good service in that field should have their due 
snare of credit. 



448 INSTRUCTION IN 

periods of time, the less shall we be satisfied with the sections and 
captions by means of which we sub-divide its current. And still, it 
is not only true that the reader needs some fixed divisions of time for 
his purposes, but also that there exist in the course of history, definite 
marks of the predominance of certain tendencies, although some indi- 
cations of them have usually appeared in advance of the new epoch 
itself. These considerations come upon us with especial force, when 
we find ourselves obliged to recognize as the foremost man of any 
period, one of very moderate talents, and possessed of any qualities 
rather than genius and originality of conception. In such a case we 
do not see a creative intellect, evolving new and influential conceptions 
from within its depths, but merely a certain dexterity in comprehend- 
ing what it is that the age demands, and in applying this knowledge 
to its own purposes. Thus is to be explained the position held by 
Gottsched in the history of German literature. And his importance 
as a German grammarian does not depend upon great labors, of great 
value in themselves, in that department, but is most closely inter- 
woven with all his literary work. Accordingly, we shall have no oc- 
casion to busy ourselves with the details of his writings on grammar, 
although at the same time our purpose will lead us more carefully to 
consider the relation between Gottsched's grammar and his remaining 
writings. Without therefore plunging too deeply into German lite- 
rary history, let us devote a few words to this point. 

Johann Christoph Gottsched, who was born, in 1700, at Juditen- 
kirch, in East Prussia, appointed professor at Leipzig, in 1730, and 
died there in 1766, enjoyed, while at the summit of his reputation, a 
fame whose splendor has been surpassed only by the very loftiest of 
our nation.* If this seems incredible now, upon a perusal of his 
writings, perhaps tlie best explanation of the phenomenon will be 
found in the very subject which we are now to discuss. We have 
already seen, in the second chapter of this essay, that the philological 
labors of the century preceding Gottsched, had been mainly directed 
to the improvement of the methods of teaching German ; and that 
the current of these efforts had grown stronger and stronger up to 
the period of Gottsched's appearance. During the same period, the 
feeling also grew up that German literature, in order to gain an in- 
troduction into the higher circles of society, most adopt its garb 
more to the taste prevailing there than had been the case with most 
of the German authors of preceding centuries. But this pre\'ailing 

* See Danzel's "■Gottsched and his times (.Gottsched und seine. 7eii)" Leipzig, 1848. Ex- 
tracts from this, descriptive of Gottsched's fame in the period of his renown— certainly a 
sliort one-'sre in the '^Munich Lilerartj Gazette {Mnnchner OHthrten Anzeigcr)," 1848, 
No 211. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 449 

taste was no other than the French taste of the seventeenth century 
and the beginning of the eighteenth. Now, any one who should 
succeed in gratifying both these demands, for improvements in Ger- 
man grammar, and for a French character in it, must necessarily ac- 
quire with remarkable speed a great reputation, both in the schools, 
which wore so deeply interested in studying German, and with the 
"educated classes," who would find their desired French taste ex- 
hibited ill German compositions ; and at the same time it must be 
confessed that neither the one nor the other of these tasks required a 
remarkably high grade of talent. All that was needed was, like 
Gottsched, to lay hold of the undertaking with confidence and deter- 
mination, to follow it up with ceaseless activity and a zeal not to be 
mistaken and indeed really praiseworthy, and to secure the advantages 
already gained, and a constant succession of new ones by the medium 
of newspapers, philological societies, the protection of persons of 
eminence, and other means. 

Within this system of various effort, the grammars of Gottsched 
assume their proper importance. In 1V48 appeared at Leipzig one 
of them, viz., '•''Outline of a German grammar^ on the models 0/ the 
beat writers of the present and last centuries, hy Johann Christoph 
Gottsched.''''* This book reached a second edition in the very next 
year; and a sixth in 1VV6. Subsequently, in 1753, Gottsched pub- 
lished, for the special use of youth, an abridged outline. If we ex- 
cept the dictatorial rules which Gottsched is constantly laying down, 
we find much to praise in his grammar. He shows himself acquainted 
with the ancient authorities on our language,! refers with apprecia- 
tion to his predecessors,^ and speaks with more judgment than many 
would expect, of the limits of the department of the grammarian. § 
His treatment of grammatical subjects does not contain much that is 
new. It is very characteristic that he terras the strong verbs, which 
Schottelius had named " unconformable " or "anomalous," in plain 
terms "irregular verbs." But he makes up fur this oversight, by 
saying, "Hence it is clear, that notwithstanding all the apparent 
irregularities of this inflection, still there is therein a certain order, 
regulated by rules."|| Respecting the High German written language, 
Gottsched differs materially from the best of his predecessors ; indeed, 
here is the rock upon which his poetical and grammatical dictatorship 
was wrecked. He can not maintain, in the face of such clear evidence, 

* '■'■Grundlegung einer Deulschen Sprachkunst, nach der Mustern der bestcn SehriflstelUir 
des vorigen und jctzigen Jahrkunderts abgef asset von Johann Christoph. GoUscheden." 

t Compare for example, pp. 9, 19, 565, et seq. I quote from the 4th ed., Leipzig, 1757 ; though. 
I give the title from the let ed., of 1748. 

} Preface, fo. 5. § P. 6, 10. I P. 331. 

29 



450 INSTRUCTION IN 

that " the vulgar " used the most correct forms of expression, even in 
the Saxon cities ;* but he still maintains with the most triumphant 
certainty of being right that at Meissen and its vicinity is spoken the 
best High German;! and that we "in Germany must without doubt 
conjoin to the very agreeable oral dialect of Dresden, the capital of 
electoral Saxony, and of the court, those grammatical ru)es and 
critical observations which were made at Leipzig many years ago, 
and have been applied to the written language. "| Gottsched, like 
most others, thinks his own age better than those preceding it. "The 
period of the government of our most illustrious prince, Augustus II., 
of Saxony," he says,§ "well deserves to be called the golden age of 
our language."! It was Gottsched's misfortune to have made this 
complacent statement just at the beginning of a new era which was 
soon to turn it into ridicule. 

But all this will not so definitely distinguish Gottsched from his 
predecessors, as to account for the reputation which he gained. The 
reason is rather to be looked for in the manner in which Gottsched 
connected his grammar with literature. Thus it is well worth 
noticing, that the very title to his German grammar says, "On the 
models of the best writers of the present and last centuries" — that is, 
not of the sixteenth, seventeenth and eighteenth, but only of the 
seventeenth and eighteenth. Thus, the long series of grammarians 
who followed each other in the footsteps of Luther, ends with Gott- 
sched ; and in the place which he occupied with them, appears Opitz. 
The ancient rugged forms of the writers before Opitz, according to 
Gottsched, may indeed possess more strength ; " but fall far below the 
present style of writing in agreeableness and euphony."^ "The 
multitude of good writings published since the time of Opitz, and 
with which the eighteenth century especially has enriched almost 
every one of the arts and sciences, gives to our own times an unde- 
niable privilege to prefer its own methods of syntax to the ancient 
German ones."** Into the direction indicated by Opitz, therefore, 
and into the French taste, Gottsched now desired to change the whole 
literature and literary opinions of Germany. The enterprise was of 
course doomed to shipwreck upon the opposition of those great Ger- 
man minds, of whose near approach Gottsched had no suspicion. 

* Pp. 3, 404. t Pp. 67, 69. X P. 403. 

§ That is, the period from 1694 to the middle of the eighteenth century ; for it was at this 
latter time that these words were written. 



P. 19. 



H p. 18. 



P. 401 ; and compare p. 575. Gottsched's praise of Luther in another place is of course 
not inconsistent with these views. On the close connection between Gotlsched and Opitz, 
see the excellent observations of Gervinus, '^History of German Poetry," vol. 3, (1836), p. 
.199 ; and vol. 4, (1840), p. 50. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 



451 



But it was not without its influence upon literature ; and its conjunc- 
tion of literature and grammar had a veiy distinct influence upon the 
upper grades of schools. The scope of grammatical instruction in 
these was no longer confined merely to spelling correctly and the use 
of the native German language in the ordinary concerns of practical 
life, but special attention was now paid to good taste, to literary 
criticism, and frequently even to actual composition in prose and 
verse* 

Adelvng. 
The inheritor of Gottsched's fame in the field of German grammar 
was Johann Christoph Adelung; who was born, in 1724, at Spante- 
kow, near Anklam in Pomerani, studied at Halle, became professor in 
the gymnasium at Erfurt in 1759, and taught privately at Leipzig 
from 1763 to 1787, when he was appointed chief librarian at Dres- 
den. He died in ISOfi.f Adelung devoted the iron industry of a 
long life to the task of laboring upon the grammar and lexicology of 
German. A complete list of the titles of his works on this subject 
would fill several pages. I will name the most important of them. 
The " Gramviatical and critical dictionary of the High German 
langua ge''''\ appeared first, in 1774-86; and the second edition in 
1793 — 1801. The '■'■German grammar for schools,'''^ first appeared 
in 1781, and its sixth edition in 1816. The ^''Complete system of the 
German langi(age,''^\\ came out in 1782, in two large volumes. Lastly, 
the book "0?i German style^'^ was published in 1785, and a fourth 
edition in 1800. Adelung was in most of his writings a follower of 
Gottsched. Whatever can be said in Gottsched's praise, is applica- 
ble to Adelung in a still higher degree. As with Gottsched, so with 
Adelung, clearness and correctness are the qualities most sought for. 
Like Gottsched, Adelung lays great stress on taste ; and it must be 
admitted that in all these particulars he surpasses his predecessor. 

* At a more modern period, the late lamented Danzel endeavored to urge again the per- 
manently valuable part of Gottsched's views. But although his book contains much that is 
valuable, the reader must be on his guard against its extreme ideas. See the Munich '■^Lite- 
rary Advertiser (Gelehrlen Anzeiger)" 1843, No. 210, 211. I btlieve that the introductory 
words of this section of my own work will secure me against such an error. Gottsched had 
of course predecessors even in his characteristic opinions. As early as in the philological 
societies of the seventeenth century, grammar and literary labor were united. We may even 
detect still earlier, in the sixteenth century, in Clajus and Oelinger, references to literature. 
Still, it is needless h-re to prove at length that all this is entirely distinct from that style of 
literary criticism which Gottsched learned from Horace and the French. The labors of Mor- 
hof, BiJdiker, and others, form a transition to Gottsched. 

t Jiirdens, ^^Lexicon of German poets and prosemen (Lexikon deutscher Dichter und 
Prosaisteri)" I. p. 13; v. p. 700. 

t •' Grammatisch-kritische Wdrterbuch der Hockdeutschen Mundart." 

§ "Deutsche Sprachlehre fvr Schulen." 

1! ^^Umstandliche Lthrgeb'dude der Deutschen Sprache." 

H "Ueber den deutschen Styl." 



452 INSTRUCTION IN 

And moreover, Adelung, as Gottsched had done, devoted much labor 
to the investigation of the old German literature and language. 
And they both agree further in this ; that there is visible throughout 
all their works, a consciousness either expressed or implied, of the re- 
markable importance and ability of their achievements. If either of 
them goes beyond the other in this particular of a lov/ estimate of 
jjrevious periods and labors, it is Adelung. There is one important 
point upon which Gottsched and Adelung apparently differ ; but even 
here, Adelung has in fact only completed what Gottsched had begun. 
This point is the question. What is the High German language ? 
Adelung himself laid great stress upon the fact that Gottsched had 
asserted the High German to be the result of the labors of authors, 
while he himself had earnestly combatted this opinion.* But al- 
though Adelung was more definite than Gottsched in asserting that 
language was not a production of authors, and least of all of gram- 
marians, still expressions to the same effect are not wanting in the 
latter. And both agree in claiming that the Misnian dialect is the 
proper, authoritative, classical High German. Not, that is, the speech 
of the lower classes ; Gottsched had perceived this : — but that of 
"the upper classes of Upper Saxony."f This doctrine of course 
brought him into a violent opposition to the whole German literature 
of the new period, which was now receiving reinforcements from all 
parts of Germany. And Adelung misapprehended the character of 
the times no less, when he not only, like others of the grammatical 
school, looked with cautious wonder upon the great creations of 
Klopstock, Lessing, and Goethe, but asserted, completely possessed by 
his delusion, that " in respect to excellence of style, the second quar- 
ter of this centuryj was preeminently distinguished ; a period during 
which appeared in Saxony those good writers who quickly became 
models for all Germany ."§ 

There is another important point respecting which Gottsched and 
Adelung are strikingly alike. This was, the effort which they both 
made to give greater clearness and logical consistency to German 
grammar, by connecting it with certain general philosophical views, 
which views themselves, as held by the two men, were closely related. 

* See Adeltmg, against Voss ; in the department of news, in tlie "iVew Leipzig Gazette of 
Literature {Neues Leipziger Literaturzeitung)" Marcli 31, ISM. 

t Adelung, " On German Style," ed. 1785, 1., 58, 59, and in innumerable other places. See 
especially the preface of the "Complete System," p. Iviii. The most violent of the attacks 
upon this vitw of Adelung, was that by Joh. Heinr. Voss, in the *^Jena Universal Gazette of 
Literature (Jtna Allg<-7n. Lileratur-Zeitung)" for January and February, 1S04. 

t Viz., from 1725 to 1750. 

<i'On German Style,' ed, 17S5, i. 23. And compare I 19, subsequently ; where Adelung 
measures out to his cotemporaries,but grumblingly, some little praise. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 



453 



Gottsched was a tborough adherent of the Wolfian philosophy, while 
Adelung rejected all philosophical "sectarianism," declaring in favor 
of the eclecticism which " preceded the prevalence of Kant's system." 
He says however, in 1786, "Thus, in recent times, almost every 
philosopher of acuteness and intellect has his own eclectic system ; of 
which the Leibnitz- Wolfian hypothesis is more or less the basis."* 

This style of philosophy is closely connected with one of the most 
prominent traits of Adelung's writings, viz., their clear and intelligi- 
ble character. Lucidity and industry were his most valuable traits, 
and I designedly make this additional reference to them, for it was to 
them that his works owe their great influence upon the schools of 
the period. But a search after the higher excellences of literary 
composition, depth of thought and demonstrative correctness of 
fundamental view, would encounter in Adelung only the most dis- 
couraging shallowness. His modest and incontestably truth-loving 
nature told him that language was neither the work of learned men, 
nor was its original creation a proof of mental culture.f But instead 
of tracing the course of this great work of nature with that reverence 
which is the only means of arriving at truth, Adelung knew no bet- 
ter than to utter constant complaints against the original coarseness 
of the languages. These charges he did not restrict to the limited 
department of mere ideas, but extended them to grammatical princi- 
ples, and to the sounds and the euphony of the language. Here, he 
received no aid from the monuments of ancient German literature ; 
and no warnings from his knowledge of Greek literature and its 
Homer. " Coarse, uncouth, vulgar,'' are the terms which at every 
third word he applies to the language of those people who have not 
made that surprising progress in trade or science which distinguished 
his much praised second quarter of the eighteenth century. All 
Adelung's works show how profound an influence such errors may ex- 
ert on opinions relating to subsequent periods. No one acquainted 
with Adelung's works will need any especial proofs of tliese statements. 
I will however cite a few of the innumerable passages in point from 
Adelung's writings, for the information of those less familiar with 
them. In speaking of the language of the Germans during the first 
centuries of our era, Adelung says, "A people so uncultivated 
could have but few ideas, and those mostly material ; and their lan- 
guage must therefore be extremely poor. Their vocal organs were 
coarse and uncouth ; and could therefore express the few ideas they 

* "Histori/ of philosophy for amateurs (Geschicfite der philosophie frir Liebhnber)." Leipzig, 
1786, vol. ii., p. 425. 
t " Complete System," i., 7 ; " On German S(3'le," i., 5. 



454 INSTRUCTION IN 

had, only by roiigli and uncouth sounds."* But would he not draw 
an opposite conclusion from the Gothic language, which had then 
been well-known for a long time ? This is what he observes on this 
head, a few pages further: "As the Gothic language was thenf very 
rough and uncouth, and destitute both of terms for abstract concep- 
tions, and of sufficient flexibility in combining words and sentences," 
&C.I Of the poets of the Hohenstaufen, Adelung says, " They were 
entirely destitute of invention, wit, enthusiasm, in short of poetical 
genius."§ Nor does Luther, whom he finds other reasons for praising, 
escape without severe reproof from this strict judge. He did, it is 
true, take great pains in polishing ; and approached as nearly as his 
opportunities admitted, to the strictly Misnian dialect. But if he 
had only enjoyed more leisure for the purpose, "he would have made 
further progress, both in orthography and in grammatical correctness. 
For he is not always consistent in the former ; and with regard to the 
latter, very many foults and incorrectnesses liave escaped his observa- 
tion, even in the German Bible ; which must therefore be considered 
any thing rather than a classic"! 

CHAPTER IV. — THE BROTHERS GRIMM. 

A more complete contradiction can scarcely be imagined, than that 
between the labors of the brothers Grimm and the views of Adelung. 
As the latter adopted as a basis for his grammatical labors the second 
quarter of the eighteenth century, viz., the years 1725-50, so the 
writings of the brothers Grimm may be considered as holding a simi- 
lar relation to that outburst of real poetry which was inaugurated by 
Goethe and his friends in 1760-70. The Grimms did not, it is true, 
endeavor to establish the literature of that period as an infallible 
standard of language, as Adelung did those of 1725-50; but there 
is a relation between their principles and those which prevailed in tho 
literature spoken of, which justifies the parallel. 

Jacob Grimm was born at Hanau, in 1785; and in the spring of 
1802, entered the university of Marburg, and studied law under 
Savigny, the importance of whose influence upon Grimm's studies is 
mentioned in the graceful dedication of his Grammar to Savigny. lu 
1804, Jacob's younger brother Wilhelm, born at Hanau in 1786, 
also came to Marburg, also to study jurisprudence under Savigny. 
The brothers pursued their professional studies with pleasure and zeal, 

* " Complete System," i., 18. t Viz., in the time of Ulfilas. 

t " Complete System," i., 23. TViere is no diflSculty in recognizing the truth contained in 
these expressions ; but the unintelligent nature of their views, as taken in connection with 
other expressions by Adelung, is none the less. 

§Ib.,i., 54. Ub.,!., 66. 



THE GERiMAN LANGUAGE. ^ 455 

but even at this early period found themselves attracted toward the 
task of their hves, the investigation of the German language and an- 
tiquities. After completing their studies at the university, the 
brothers resided in Cassel, most of the time together ; their union 
being however interrupted by the important affairs which took Jacob 
Grimm to Vienna and Paris, during the years 1814-15-16. Since, 
however, Jacob was appointed second librarian of the library at Cas- 
sel, where Wilheim had already become secretary to the library in 
1814, they have resided together almost uninterruptedly. In 1829, 
an honorable appointment brought them to Gottingen, where, how- 
ever, they were deprived of their places eight years afterwards, for 
adhering to the constitution to which they had taken an oath. In 
1841, the king of Prussia invited them to Berlin. 

I shall not here enumerate all the works of the brothers Grimm. 
These have partly been produced by them both together, and partly 
by one of them individually. By both, are the '^^ Children's and 
Home Stories^ the ^'■German Legends,'''' and the ^^ German Dictionary;'''' 
by Jacob alone, the '■'German Grammar,'''' ^'^ Legal Antiquities^'' 
" Mythology^'' and " History of the German Language ;" and by 
Wilheim alone, the '■'■Anc'ient Danish Heroic Ballads,'''' and the 
"Ger77ian Heroic Legends-'''' 

A full description of what the brothers Grimm have done and at- 
tempted, would carry ns into very various departments of knowledge, 
and which we can not discuss in this place without quite losing sight 
of our immediate theme. And yet, there is no one in whose works 
it is less possible to wholly separate any one phase of occupation from 
the others. My simplest mode of stating the necessary desci'iption, 
and one which I believe will satisfy many of my readers, is to say, 
that the brothers Grimm belong to the histoiical school, in opposition 
to Ferdinand Becker, who is of the philosophical school. But though 
this distinction is correct enough, still it does not give much informa- 
tion ; for it does not decide the question what is meant by the two 
terms, historical and philosophical ; terms with which an endless 
number of misconceptions have been connected. It is possible that I 
may more nearly obtain the desired result by citing from the brothei^ 
Grimm themselves, some of the most definite of the statements 
which they have given of their views and methods of investigating. 

The leading traits in the character of the brothers Grimm are rev- 
erence for history, keen poetic sensibilities, and a warm love for all 
that is German and patriotic. This respect for history, which charac- 
terizes all the productions of the brothers, is thus expressed in Jacob 
Grimm's dedication of his greatest work to Savigny ; "I am already 



456 INSTRUCTION IN 

certain that you will do justice to my attempt to commence an in- 
vestigation of our German antiquity from this direction, and will ap- 
prove of my idea of proving that grammar also establishes the in- 
violableness and necessity of history."* A feeling for poetry is almost 
more characteristic of the brothers Grimm, in distinction from Gott- 
sched, Adelung, and their school, even than these views respecting 
history. Instead of like them, everywhere deifying conventionalities, 
and regarding every thing that is good in language and poetry as 
only an evidence of refined culture, the Grimms are constantly dis- 
posed to favor what is original, natural, and the immediate result of 
native mental action. These tendencies of course implied the direct 
opposite of Adelung's unintelligent opinions on German antiquity 
and the ancient German poetry. This should not however be taken 
to signify that the Grimms had that mistaken kind of patriotism 
which over-estimated every thing that is modern and German, or un- 
derrated the excellence of the clasrsical productions of antiquity. 
They have expressed views precisely the opposite of these in many 
places and in the clearest manner. Jacob Grimm, in the dedication 
already quoted, has most gracefully expressed his sense of the value 
of native compositions. " Real poetry," he says, " is like a man who 
finds a thousand sources of pleasure in seeing leaves and grass grow, 
and the sun rise and set; false, like one who travels in foreign lands, 
and fancies that he is improving himself on the mountains of Switzer- 
land, or under the sky, or on the sea of Italy ; but although he is 
there, his pleasure is probably far from being as great as that of him 
who remains at home, and watches the apple trees blossom every 
year in his garden, and the finches pecking at them."f The Grimms 
have preserved a true appreciation of history, and for all natural 
developments from real life, instead of the foolish contempt which 
superficial men have displayed toward the institutions and manners 
of ancient times. They have contributed more than any one else 
toward a just and affectionate estimate of the Middle Ages ; al- 
though they liave quite preserved themselves from the absurdity of 
undertaking to transplant those ages bodily into our own times. 
Wilhelm Grimm observes with much justice on this point in his brief 
account of his hfe, "Only the narrowest mind could undertake to in- 
vestigate mediaeval history with the intention of transplanting it into 
the present; but it would indicate equal folly of an opposite kind, to 

* Grammar i., p. 4. 

t Grammar i.. p. 7. I believe I have not injured the meaning of the quotation by giving 
only its positive part, and omitting the polemic reference to Ariosto. The relations between 
nature and cultivation vfill be discussed, so far as they belong to instruction in language, ia 
my second book. 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 45Y 

endeavor to ignore the influence which the iiiiddle ages must exert 
upon our comprehension and proper treatment of the present."* 

As a grammarian, Jacob Grinmi is exactly opposed to Gottsched, 
Adelung and their school, by not undertaking to lay down laws for 
the use of the German language. His labors are directed to the 
object of investigating laws already established. The remarkable 
discoveries to which this method has led, are well known. Grimm's 
pioneers in his labors must not therefore be taken to be the gram- 
marians of whom I have given some account, and whose excellence 
lies in quite another field. The materials for his investigations were 
found to some extent, though not great, prepared, in the works of those 
who had before him pursued the study of the existing monuments of 
the Gothic, Anglo-Saxon, and ancient Scandinavian and German lan- 
guages. The history of these studies, which belongs to Iceland, Den- 
mark, Sweden, Norway, and England, as well as Germany, is of 
course often coimected with that of the series of grammarians of 
which I am treating. At the same time, however, it also constitutes 
a separate department of learning, not properly to be introduced in a 
history of instruction in German. Grimm has at all times acknowl- 
edged whatever was valuable in the works of his philological prede- 
cessors; but as to the relations between him and the average of 
German grammarians, he thus expresses himself in the preface to his 
grammai'f :— 

" From the first grammatical treatment of the German language down 
to Adelung, a good number of books were written on the subject; 
from Adelung to the present time, a still greater number. But as I 
do not desire to be ranked with these, but on the contrary to be quite 
separated from them, I must at the outset declare why I consider ob- 
jectionable, and even foolish, the usual methods and ideals of the 
theories of German, especially those put forth and received during 
the last half century. It has gradually become the practice to make 
these books manuals of instruction in all the schools; and to recom- 
mend them even to adults, for the culture and development of their 
powers of language : an excessively pedantical proceeding, and one 
which it would require great exertions even to make intelligible to a 
Greek or a Roman, could he now be raised from the dead. Most of 
our cotemporary nations have been wiser than we, in that they have 
not so seriously set about making their own language a subject of in- 

* Wilhelm Grimm's autobiography ; in the '^Beginning of a History of the literati, au- 
thors and artiste of Hesse, from 1806 to 1830, ^Cfrundlage zu einer Hessischen Gelehrten, 
Schrftstetler, inid Kunstler-.Geschichte vum Juhr. 1S06, bis zum Jahr, 1830)," by K W. Justi. 
Marburg, 1831. P. 173. 

t£rammajr i.,pp. 9, U. 



458 INSTRUCTION IN 

struction at school. A close investigation will quickly reveal the 
hidden harm which such instruction, like all that is superfluous, brings 
with it. My own belief is, that it obstructs the free development of 
the organs of speech in children, and violates a most valuable pro- 
vision of nature, that our speech shall come to us with the mother's 
milk, and be developed to its maturity within the precincts of home. 
Language, like every thing derived from nature or habit, is an un- 
known, inscrutable mystery, planting itself at first within the young, 
and adapting the organs of speech to the peculiar hard or soft tones, 
inflections, modulations, of the people. This habitual adaptation 
produces that ineradicable sense of longing which every man feels 
when in a foreign land, the sounds of his own tongue fall upon his 
ear; and it also accounts for the impossibility of learning a foreign 
language ; that is, of learning it completely and intimately. Now, 
who can believe that a development rooted so deeply, and regulated 
by a law of nature so wisely economical, can be modified or promoted 
by the perverted, stupid and misconceived rules of grammar-masters; 
and who does not feel a sympathy for unchildlike children and youth, 
who speak a pure and polished language perhaps, but who when 
grown up can feel no home sickness for their youth ? Ask a genuine 
poet, whose principles respecting the material, spirit and rules of 
language would certainly differ far from those manufactured by gram- 
marians and dictionary-makers, what he ever learned out of Adelung; 
and whether he is a follower of him ? Six hundred years ago, every 
common peasant knew — that is, was daily practicing — perfections and 
elegancies in German, of which our best teachers in language now-a- 
days do not even dream. In the poems of Wolfram von Eschenbach, 
or of Ilartmann von Aue, who had never heard of declension and 
conjugation, and perhaps could not even read or write, distinctions 
of substantives and verbs are observed with a purity and accuracy of 
inflection and location, which we must now discover gradually by the 
methods of learned investigation, but can not now return to ; for the 
language goes on in its unalterable course. Even if I shall fail to 
describe with sufficient truth the earlier peculiarities and fortunes of 
our German language, out of such of its early monuments as survive, 
still I am confident that even a more imperfect representation of what 
I have had in mind, would possess power enough to demonstrate the 
entire incompetency of all the grammatical rules which have thus far 
been so painfully elaborated, even in those simplest outlines upon 
which all the rest must depend. And if these theories of language 
are thus shown to be themselves all deception and error, then there 
will at once be furnished evidence enough of the fruits which they 



THE GERMAN LANGUAGE. 



459 



must produce in our schools; and of their necessary tendency to 
destroy ratlier than to develop, the germs of th<. natural faculties of 
language. And it is an observation both undeniable and of import- 
ance here, that girls and women who have been least tormented in 
the schools, speak with more correctness, arrange their words more 
elegantly, and select them more naturally ; because they follow more 
obediently the requirements of the nature within them. And the 
style of their language will keep pace in development and polish, 
with their mental progress, of its own accord, and of necessity. Every 
German who understands his own language in a plain, correct, com- 
mon-sense manner — that is to say, without having been taught it by 
rules, is entitled to call himself, to use the striking expiession of a 
French writer, an independent living grammar ; and boldly to ignore 
all the rules of the grammar-masters." 

"If as these views imply there is no such thing as a grammar of 
the native language adapted for use at school and at home, no such 
thing as a dry outline of those simplest and fur that very reason most 
wonderful elements of language, of which each has lived for an im- 
measurable period before arriving at its present shape ; — it follows 
that the study of grammar can be nothing except a strictly scientific 
one ; and either philosophical, critical, or historical, according to the 
method in which it is pursued."* 

* To avoid misuiiiJerstanding, I add here that I do not undertake to give a history of the 
study of the ancient German. Such a one would of course in this place most naturally dis- 
cuss the pupils and cotemporaries of the Grimms. 



PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 



As Physical Training — its principles and methods — is at this time receiving 
more than ordinary attention from teachers and the public generally, in connec- 
tion with plans of military education, we shall bring together earlier than we 
had intended, the suggestions of eminent writers, with accounts of systema- 
tized exercises, including juvenile and popular pastimes, in difl'erent countries, 
bearing on the subject. 

There is much of the highest educational value in the military element in 
Bchools, including in that term all that is peculiar in studies, drill and disci- 
pline, designed to train officers and soldiers for the exigences of war, or to culti- 
vate a military spirit and preparation among the people. But we do not believe 
that any number of juvenile military schools, any organization of cadet-corps, 
however extensive, any amount of drill or target-shooting, valuable as all these 
are for general or specific purposes, will cover the whole field of physical cul- 
ture, which must begin far bacli in the home, with parents and nurses, and ex- 
tend out into the daily life of every man, woman and child. Neither will these 
schools, and appliances, and practices be an adequate substitute for the severe 
Bcientific study and special training which the experience of every European 
government has found necessary, in the present condition of human affairs, for 
the preparation of officers both for the army or the navy. 

We hope to see military drill and discipline, as well as systematic gymnas- 
tic exercises, worked into many of our schools, both public and j^rivate, under 
proper regulations, and well-qualified instructors, but not to supersede old-fash- 
ioned games and sperts, or to diminish the amount of hard study. Under 
proper conditions of safety, play — free and varied as nature prompts, and all 
young animals dehght in, affords the best exercise for little children and young 
scholars ; and study, worlf, and sports, judiciously alternated, constitute our course 
of gymnastics for consolidating the constitution of youth and fore-ordaining a 
manhood of prolonged strength and usefulness. Let us have good teaching, and 
enough of it, — hard study and more of it, with suitable alternation of subjects and 
frequent infusion of exhilarating play as well as of systematic exercises, — useful 
work in field and shop, with less intensity in the pursuit of wealth and office, 
and more indulgence in outside and fireside recreation, — let us have more and 
better knowledge of the laws of health, more of heart culture, as well as of 
mental and bodily vigor, more exercise of the gentle and kindly sympathies, 
more of the refining enjoyments of the beautiful in nature and art, more of the 
ennobling perceptions of moral beauty and virtue, and the daily practice of obe- 
dience, veneration, temperance and natriotism, and we shall be a healthier and 
a happier people. 



CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 

TRANSLATED FROM DIESTEKWEG'S "ALMANAC," (Jahrhucll,) FOR 1855 AND 1856, 

BY DR. HERMANN WIMMER. 



I. Intuitional Instruction, {AnschauungsunterricM,) by A. Diesterweo. 

1. What is the object of intuitional instruction f 

To prepare the child who has just entered the primary school, for formal 
school instruction. 

2. What is therefore its external position in the course of instruction? 

It forms as it were the bridge from the liberty of home life to the regular 
discipline of the school ; it is in regard to instruction, an intermediate between 
home and school. 

3. What is to be effected hy it ? 

The children are to learn to see and to hear accurately, to be attentive, to 
govern their imaginations, to observe, to keep quiet, and to speak distinctly 
and with the right emphasis. 

4. With tvhat objects viust this preparatory education deal; having in view a 
'■'■formaV aim, but no acquisition of knowledge? 

Perceptible or perceived objects ; hence its name. It has a two-fold meaning; 
real observation by the senses, especially by eye and ear, — and such manage- 
ment, by the teacher that the objects, their qualities and conditions, are made 
vivid interior perceptions. 

5. By what do we know that its end is attained ? 

By the whole appearance of the children, and particularly by their correct 
and proper speech and pronunciation, which can not be valued too highly from 
tlie first beginning. 

6. What is the beginning of this instruction? 

After a conversation about father and mother, to gain their confidence, and 
after some directions concerning the mode of answering and behaving in the 
school-room, the first thing is to observe the room and its contents. The pupil 
is to be made acquainted with aU around him ; he must learn to see, to name, 
and to describe exactly, all objects in the room. 

1. What must be chiefly attended to from the first day? 

(a) A clear, emphatic statement in complete sentences. E. g. What sort of 
thmg is this ? This thing is a chair, etc. 

(&) A comprehensive view of all qualities observed in an object, at the con- 
clusion of each exercise. This is of the greatest importance in all instruction. 

8. What is the second step ? 

Observation of the whole school, school-house, road, village or town, in their 
external qualities. 

9. The third? 

Observation of some of the animals in the place, and of man. 



462 CATECHISM ON METHODS OP TEACHING. 

10. What next? 

Tills depends on circumstances. In general, it may be said, tliat tlie result 
of this instruction may be secured by from four to six hours a week during the 
first year. The duller the children are, the longer it must be continued. It 
may be further extended to the trees and plants of the neighborhood, the trades 
and employments of the people in the place, clouds, weather, wind, fire, water, 
sun, moon, stars, etc. ; in short, to all objects accessible to real observation. 
Accurate contemplation or description of models of mathematical bodies may 
also be very advantageous. The teacher should draw the streets and houses 
of the place before the eyes of the pupils on the blackboard ; he may resort to 
'^ Stdbchenlegen," (laying down small sticks; see Diesterweg's Kleinkinderschule, 
(Primary School,) fifth edition, and Stangenberger's book;) he may use the 
picture tables ; in one word, he may arrange any variety of useful exercises to 
attain the important end. It is least possible in this branch, to prescribe in 
books a regular and equal course to all. 

Of the greatest importance, we may repeat, is the way in which the children 
speak and pronounce. A teacher who is unmindful of this, prepares trouble for 
his whole professional career. Instruction in teaching, if the teacher under- 
stands it, is at the same time instruction in language. It is not, however, in- 
struction in grammar ; yet it leads to the understanding of the language, and to 
attention to words and expressions in general. Not only the nouns, adjec- 
tives and verbs, but the prepositions and conjunctions also, should be managed 
without the mention of their names, but by using practical examples of them. 
It is not the object to explaui these words, but to use them correctly by means 
of a variety of exercises. 

The best manuals for the Intuitional Method direct such instruction, and the 
teacher shows his skill in the suitable choice of objects, and especially in the 
varied and attractive treatment of them. Less depends on the selection of what 
is to be discussed, than on the way in which the attention of the children is 
secured. If the proverb " Every way is good except the tiresome " be true any 
where, it is true here. As soon as the children get tired, the subject must be 
dropped. Success depends entirely on the activity of the children. This is 
true, indeed, of all teaching, but preeminently so where knowledge and techni- 
cal ability are not aimed at, but only an awakening of the slumbering faculties, 
a "formal" end. Attention, liveliness, a desire to observe, and to answer, etc., 
are the measures for judging of success. 

If the result is secured, i. e., if the pupil is prepared for learning, the teacher 
leaves this instruction and advances to study proper, which is likewise in- 
tuitional. That is, he proceeds always from facts, from real, undeniable and 
undisputable facts. The importance of tliis principle is not yet enough under- 
stood, nor has the subject been exhausted by teachers or educators.* 
II. Instruction in Reading, by Honcamp. 
Reading Writing together [Schreib-Lese- Vhterricht.) 

1. Shall the first instruction in reading he begun in connection with the first 
instruction in writing ? 

Most certainly, for reading and writing are most intimately connected. 

♦Harder, in bis manual, (Altona, 1853,) differs from these views so far as he makes this 
instruction the basis of real instruction, and likewise real instruction itself " But where 
matter dominates," says Kalisch, " pedagogical management and general cultivation is at an 
end ; for to the teacher, matter is secondary." 



CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 463 

2. Was imtruction in the former separated from the latter in olden times? 
From ancient times writing was accompanied by reading; but not until 

modern times, (since Graser,) has reading been connected witli writing, in all its 
eteps. 

3. Is this method according to nature f 

It is natural, because reading and writing are properly but two different sides 
of the same thing, i. e., of the written language. 

4. But is it not easier^ first to practice the one, and not to practice the other, until 
the greater difficulties of the former are mastered ? 

Quite the contrary. Reading and writing assist each other mutually, and 
experience teaches, that the first instruction in either, is made more efficient by 
their union. 

5. /w what way shall they be connected f 

The teacher can either (analytically) view the spoken word as a sound, and 
then have it (synthetically) represented by the signs for the sounds, i. e., the 
letters, in which case writing is prior; or he may first view the written 
(printed) word as a representation of the sound, (analytically,) and then have it 
(synthetically) reproduced by pronouncing or reading — in which case reading is 
prior. We have, therefore, either a Lese (rending)- Schreib {wTitmg)-Methode, or 
a Schreih-Lese-Methode, — (Writing-reading-method.)* 

6. What may be said in favor of the reading-writing method f 

Writing always precedes reading; the inventor of writing did it for reading's 
^ake ; he wrote first, and then he read. Hence, instruction in reading must be 
joined to instruction in writing. 

7. What may be said in favor of the reading-writing-method .? 

In answering this question we take, not the place of tlie inventor of writing, 
but of him to whom he first communicated his invention ; the inventor taught 
him first to read and then to write, and in like manner, according to nature, we 
must proceed now. 

8. Which method is to he preferred? 

It is nearly indifferent, either in regard to subject or result, whether we put 
the pupil in the more artificial place of the first inventor, or in the more natural 
place of the first pupil. 

9. What rules must be observed in the adoption of either ? 

Reading and writing must always be intimately connected ; tlie elements of 
the word must be found by anal3^sis, and made the basis of study ; and only such 
words and syllables must be read and written, as have a meaning for the pupiL 

* Reading is always analytical, writing synthetical; but the metliod of teaching may be 
Oifferent. If reading be separated from writing, the proceeding may be 

(1,) Synthetical ; where the letter is given, and with it either (n) the name of the letter with- 
out tlie sound— Ouc/islahirmethode, spelling method; or (b) the sound (/««/; of the letter 
without the name — lautirmethode, i>hunel]c method; or (c) the sound and the name of the 
letter, spelling and phonetic method combined, (Wilging's, Kaieerau' s ;) or 

(2,) Analytical ; where the pupil reviews the written (printed) matter as a whole, that he 
may resolve it into its elements. The whole is (a) a proposition or sentence, (Jacotot's 
method ;) (A) a word, (Qedike's method :) or 

(3,) Analytico-synthetical ; the child, to become prepared for reading, is made to resolve 
sentences into words, words into syllables, syllables into sounds, and then the teacher pro- 
ceeds by the combined method. See Jacobi's book on these methods; also Honcamp's 
"■VoUcsschu}^:' No. 10. p. 20. 

In the Schrfih-Les-e Mrthode, (and vice versa,) it is well to give also the name of the sound 
and letter. 



464 CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 

10. Is itnot requiring too muchof a cMld, who 7ias not yet mastered the mechanical 
part of reading, to ask him to think of the contents and understand what he reads ? 

Not at all ; for word and idea are one, and speaking and thinking are not to 
be disconnected. "Given the word, to think of its meaning," is not an opera- 
tion which the pupil has to learn ; he does it of himself and has always done it. 
But to speak, without joining an idea with it, the pupil has to learn, and that 
too in order to unlearn it afterward with much trouble. 

1 1. Why is it important never to read meaningless syllables and unintelligible words ? 
Because the pupil will read in future as he is taught to read ; therefore, he 

ought to get accustomed from the beginning to seek in all that he reads a proper 
idea. Every thing not essential, particularly all that would embarrass the first 
instruction, should be put off to a later time. It is not necessary to proceed 
fi'om the easier sounds to the more difficult, for the chUd pronounces all with 
equal facility ; but it is good to begin with the easier letters, so far as their 
form is concerned, for example, o, i, s, f. 

Reading by itself. 
Reading may be divided into (1,) mechanical;' (2,) logical, (intelligent,) and 
(3,) aesthetical, (feelmg.) 

1 2. Are these grades strictly to he kept asunder ? 

No ; reading must never be merely mechanical, without regard to the under- 
standing ; with logical reading, mechanical ability ought at the same time to be 
advanced ; nor should reading ever be without feeling ; and with sesthetical 
reading, both the mechanical and the logical processes should be practiced. 
The first belongs, in a common school, to the lowest class ; the second, (logical,) 
to the middle, and the third to the highest class, i. e., they are preeminently to 
be attended to in those classes. 

13. Wherein comists the m.echanical ability of reading? 

In a quick survey of the written or printed matter, and in the ability of repre- 
senting a row of letters by the right sounds, syllables and words. 

14. Hoio is this ability best acquired ? 

By frequent class-reading, which must alternate with single reading, so that 
tlie former is always preceded by the latter, which must serve as a model. 
Single words and sentences are to be repeated, until they are readily pronounced. 
The teacher, by his accompanying voice, directs as to right pronunciation and 
accentuation. 

15. Wherein consists logical reading? 

In that the understood contents of a piece are emphasized in conformity with 
that understanding. 

16. When does the pupil understand the contents? 

"When he knows the meaning of the words, and the meaning of their relations 
in the sentences. 

11. When does he understand the meaning of the words? 

When he knows the signification of the derived and compound words by the 
, meaning of their elements, and when he well distinguishes between the proper 
and the figurative meanings of the same. 

18. Should the exercises in the formation of words, and such as help to understand 
the rhetorical figures, be practiced in the reading lesson? 

They should be combined with grammar, and occur in the reading lesson 
only so far as is necessary for understanding the words. 



CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 465 

19. Wlien does the pupil understand the relations within the sentence? 

Wlien he knows how one conception (of a word) refers to another; the differ- 
ent conceptions (words) to the speaker ; one idea to another ; and the different 
ideas to the speaker. It is sufficient for the pupil to understand these relations 
without having a conscious insight into them. An analysis of the conceptions 
and expressions belongs to the grammar, not to the reading lesson, in order 
not to spoil the pupil's enjoj^ment of the contents, etc., etc. (The rest has more 
particular reference to the German language.) 

III. Arithmetic, {Rechen- Unterrichl,) by A. Diesterweg. 

1. What lias brought arithmetic info the common school? 

The wants of daily life — material necessity. Its introduction was historically 
the first of those which caused a change in the organization of schools. (Raba- 
nus Maurus, in the ninth century, recommended arithmetic and geometry, 
because they open mysteries, because the Bible speaks of cyphering and 
measuring, because we learn by it to measure the ark of Noah, etc.) 

2. Is this the only reason why the present common school teachers retain this 
instruction, and. consider it indispensably necessary? 

Not at all. They have recognized in the right treatment of number, and of 
its application to dailj^ life, an excellent discipline of the mind; the formal 
object is added to the material one. 

3. Uow do they compare in value ? 

The formal object has the preference ; in no case is it to be subordinate ; 
the development of the mental powers is in every school the chief point. But 
they do not exclude one another; quite the contrary. The formal end ia 
attained just so far as the matter to be understood is worked through. 

4. Whai motives decide on the choice and arrangement of the matter ? 

First, the " formal "' motive ; i. e., regard to the mental nature of the children, 
the laws of human development ; and especial regard to the individual nature 
of the learner; next, various external circumstances — differences of place and 
time, and of schools. Tlie first motive is universally the same ; it dictates the 
management-o£ the number; the second directs the aj)plication of the number, 
or calculation. 

5. How far ought all to advance in arithmetic ? 

The maximum can not be stated ; nor the minimum either, at least in regard 
to the degree of formal development. It remains to point out the material mini- 
mum, and this requires every child to be able to solve the common problems of 
every day life. It is neither necessary nor possible, that all scholars should 
reach the same point. 

6. What is to be thought of prescribed rules and formulas ? 

They are to be entirely annihilated. No operation, not understood in its 
reasons, should be performed, or learned. The scholar nmst be able not to 
demonstrate mechanically each Operation, but to give the simple reasons which 
justify it to the mind. The right deductions from the nature of the number and 
of its relations, are to prove its correctness. 

7. Wherewith must instruction in arithmetic begin ? 

With the numbering of real objects, (cubes, little rods, fingers, etc.) 

8. What indmtive means are next employed, and Iww long is their use continued ? 
The teacher next proceeds to the use of artificial means, as lines, points, 

cyphering rods, Pestalozzian tables, etc., and continues to practice the simple- 



4Q6 CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 

changes of number with them, until the pupil has a perfectly clear idea of the 
numbers and of their quantities. 

9. What next? 

The teacher advances to the use of figures. 

10. What is the treatment of the number, with and without figures? 

The latter always precedes the former ; the written or slate arithmetic every 
where follows mental arithmetic. Not only does the cultivating power of 
arithmetic lie in the insight into the relations of number, but also the wants of 
practical life demand preeminently skill in mental arithmetic. 

11. Upon what chiefly depends that skill? 

First on the ability in handling the decimal principle, {Zehnergesetz ;) then on 
the ability to compare and analyze numbers. 

12. How do Vie exercises with so-called " pu7-e,^' and with applied numbers, 
compare ? 

The former always precede ; application presumes ability in treating the pure 
number. This being attained, questions, problems and exercises follow ; together 
with denominate numbers, and their application to life. 

13. Are the exercises with numbers from 1 to 100 to come in order after thef(mr 
rules, {addition, subtraction, multiplication, division?) 

No. All operations ought to be performed successively with these numbers ; 
the regulated uniformity of the operations comes later. (Grube, Schweitzer, etc.) 

14. Shall fractional arithmetic be entirely separated from instruction in whole 
numbers ? 

No. No. 1.3 forbids it, and makes it impossible; even considered in itself it 
would be improper. 

1 5. Which points must be distinguished in practical problems ? 
First, the understanding of the words. 

Second, the relation of the question to the statement, or of the thing required 
to the thing given. 

Third, the understanding of the way in which the unknown number depends 
on the number given. 

Fourth, the finding of the unknown number from the given number; that is, 
the calculation, oral or written. 

16. What has the teacher to do in these four processes, vihen the pupil can not 
proceed of his oivn strength ? 

In the first, the imderstanding of the words and things in their relations must 
be explained, and often directly given. 

In the second, what is required must be well distinguished fi-om what is 
^iven ; the propriety of tlie question must be accurately considered. 

The third point is to be brought out by means of questions from the teacher. 

The fourth is an affair by itself^ and is the pupil's concern. 

An exercise is not complete and satisfactory, until the pupil is able to explain 
these four points, one after another, orally, and without any aid. 

The teacher leads by questions, (by analysis ;) the pupil proceeds by synthesis. 
The former proceeds from what is sought, the latter from what is given. 

17. Hoiv is talent for arithmetic to be recognized? 

Besides what has been said in No. 16, — by the independent invention of ntflr 
.methods of solving the problems, of peculiar processes, etc. 

.18. Jn what way may uniformity in arithmetical instruction be gained? 

By solving each problem rationally, according to the peculiar nature of the 



CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 4^7 

Bumerical relations occurring in it, and consequently, without admitting any 
external rule or formula, which on the contrary ought to result from the subject 
itself. Uniformity lies in the rational, transparent treatment, and, therefore, in 
the mind, not in the form. Good rules, etc., are not indifferent, but they must 
follow the observation of the thing. 

19. Which is the most simple, natural and appropriate form of managing the 
problems externally f 

Not the doctrine of proportions ; it is too artificial, and too difficult for the 
common school ; nor the chain rule, etc. The best form in slate arithmetic for 
the common school is the so-called "Ziveisatz," the fractional form, (hruchform,) 
which every where requires reflection. (Scholz.) 

20. What is the value of the so-called ^^ proofs " and abbreviations ? 

The proofs are, with a rational method, superfluous ; the latter are of little 
value. A well guided pupil finds them out himself, and ifj in the highest class, 
some of them are pointed out to him, their origin, and thus their correctness, 
must be demonstrated at the same time.* 

IV. Geometry, (Raumlehre,) by A. Diesterweg. 

1. Is geometry required in the comman school'? 

No doubt, for it teaches the forms in which every thing appears ; the shape 
of matter and the laws of those forms ; the laws of space and of extent in space ; 
the dependence of magnitudes and forms on each other. 

2. Wliy is such knowledge considered as a requisite for general cultivation f 
Because the whole mass of bodies, the universe, as well as man, exists in 

space ; because without the knowledge of the qualities of space, man would be 
ignorant of that appearance of things which belong to their inmost nature; 
because geometry teaches how to measure lines, surfaces and bodies, which 
knowledge is very necessary ; because without it man could not divine, that the 
distance and size of the sun, moon and stars, could be determined ; and because 
he would even have no idea of the extent of his own abode, and of the mathe- 
matical, i. e;, fundamental qualities of the same. All this is consequently requi- 
site for general human cultivation, not to speak of its practical value, as well for 
female as male education, and therefore for the common school, the school of 
the people. Without it, not the most indispensable part, but an essential part, 
of education is wanting. 

3. What elements of geometry are to be taught in the common school ? and in 
general what parts of it may be considered there f 

Space admits of "intuitive," (anschauliche,) and a demonstrative, 'pegriffs- 
maessige,) observation. 

The intuitive faculty of man perceives immediately objects in space, bodies in 
their qualities and forms ; with the sense of touch he perceives what opposes 
him in space, the body and its external form ; the sense of sight assists him, by 
determining extent and distance, and by comparing and measuring them. 
These are operations of external intuition. The intellect abstracts the differentia 
of the bodies, and fixes the pure, mathematical form; and thus aids the interior 
pure, or mathematical intuition. Moreover, the logical intellect, perceiving the 

* No school can do without an arithmetical text-book. Hence it sutliced to give here 
the principles. These contain the measure by which we have to judge of the value of th« 
*«xt-book. 



468 CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 

dependence of magnitudes on each other, their mutusd conditions, the inference 
of the one from the other, deduces and concludes. 

The intuitive part of geometry is that elementary part which is proper for the 
common school. But thereby is not meant, that the pupils should not learn the 
dependence of one thing on the other ; this even can not be avoided, it comes 
of itself; but according to the degree of abihty, quicker and deeper with one 
than with another, and one school will make more progress in it than another. 
But the power to be immediately employed is the faculty of observing — first, 
the exterior, and then, and preeminently, the interior. The conclusions con- 
nected with that observation result therefrom spontaneously; the intellect works 
without being ordered. Therefore, in geometry, as every where — a fact, igno- 
rance of which, causes much merely repetitious and lifeless teaching, as well as 
intellectual dependence and immaturity — the teacher ought to lead the scholar 
to immediate, true and vivid perceptions. 

The strict or Euclidean geometry, with its artificial proofs, is not fit for the 
common school, nor does it prosper there. 

4. What is more particularly the subject of geometrical instruction in the peoples' 



The qualities of (mathematical) lines, surfaces and solids. 

5. What method is to be pursued with it ? 

The point of starting is taken in the physical body ; and from this the mathe- 
matical one is as it were distilled. 

The order of single precepts or propositions is, as has been said, as much aa 
possible genetical. Pedantry and anxiety are here, as every where, prejudicial. 
The method, always intuitive, requires originality, i. e., the evolving of every 
thing learned from some thing preceding; aims at immediate spontaneous 
understanding of one thing through the other. 

6. What is the immediate purpose of this instruction f 

To understand the qualities of lines, plains and bodies; to measure and 
calculate them. 

7. What instruments are used hy the pupil ? 

Pen and pencil, for drawing ; compass and scales, for measuring ; the usual 
tneasures of lines, surfaces and bodies, for calculating. 

V. Natural History, by Ed. Hintze. 

1. What method should be used in teaching natural history f 

The method of instruction is the mental development of the pupil by meana 
of the material development of the object. The method is, therefore, essentially 
a process made by the teacher. Since there can be but one such development, 
there can be but one method. 

2. Which is that t/rue method? 

The one true method is named from the principle contained in it ; it is the 
developing method. 

'6. Wherein consists this developing method? 

In development there are three steps ; observation, (anschauung,) conception, 
{vorstellung,) and generalization, (begriff.) Such is the progress of the method. 
Every where teaching begins with facts, and therefore in this case with the 
observation of natural objects. Of these, individual action and growth must be 
shown, and the general law of nature thence inferred. In this way and only in 
this, the pupil is taught according to nature, since he proceeds from immediate 
observing and knowing to perceiving and understanding. 



CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 4(59 

4. Wliat mode of teaching is to he used f 

That one which develops by questioning, (die fragend-eniivickeldnde.) 

5. Is this mode practicable in all three courses, {set down by Hintze elsevjhere 
with regard to the capability of the scholars) f 

In the first course, questioning is predominant; on the second, ^''dervortrag" 
1. e., proper teaching and explaining must be joined with it; on the tliird 
again, questioning predominates. In all good instruction questioning is pre- 
dominant, and with it conversation with the whole class. 

6. What have we to think of lecturing f 

Lecturing is no form of instruction at all ; it is a rocking chair for teacher and 
pupils ; the former has easy work, whilst the latter stare and dream. 

7. What ought to be required of the pupils ? 

Their first and chief object must be to learn to see right ; then follows right 
reproduction ; and the necessary result is right understanding. 

8. What is the value of learning by heart ? 

In all instruction nothing must occur which is not understood, and merely 
learnt by words. One fact well understood by observation, and well guided 
development, is worth a thousand times more than a thousand words and sen- 
tences learnt by heart without understanding. A well guided pupil has nothing 
to learn by heart particularly ; what is understood, is remembered for life. 

9. Shall the pupil use a text-book? 

For natural history it is useless. The good teacher does not depend on it. 
the bad one has a good means to cover his inability, and the scholar has nothing 
but a dry skeleton. 

The teacher must have mineralogical, botanical and zoological collections, and, 
if possible, a microscope. 

10. What must the pupil do at home f 

Write out and draw what has been treated in school — in proportion to his 
time — in a brief^ concise and neat manner. Besides, the well directed pupil will 
voluntarily and eagerly occupy himself with nature, look with interest and 
intelligence at plants, stones, etc., and collect theiu. 

11. ITow does an able teacher distinguish himself in this study? 

The able teacher takes pains with his school every where, and particularly in 
this branch; all energy, punctuality and vivacity, must be applied here, if 
instruction is not to be a dead and dry mechanism. 

12. What distinguishes a painstaking [sir ebsamen) teaciierf 

The able teacher is found out at school, the painstaking one at home. There 
are certain branches which are soon done with. But this is not the case with 
natural history ; he who is devoted to it, must follow its own path of progress. 
The teacher must never cease to study, to make excursions, experiments, col- 
lections, etc., to search, to Usten, to observe and investigate. 

13. What characterizes the inspiring (geistanregende) teacher ? 

He is distinguished by a happy development of sound talents, love of study, 
and devotion to his vocation. By force of application every one may acquire 
the necessary knowledge, for nature is every where. If the able teacher shows 
himself at school, the painstaking teacher principally at home, — there flows 
from the inspiring teacher every where something that indeed can not be com- 
pletely gained by study and application ; but an earnest will accomplishes a 
great deal. Besides, it is true, that as under the hands of Midas every thing 
Was changed into gold, so in the hands of an inspiring teacher every thing 



470 CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 

becomes enlivened. As the creative mind every where works attractively, so 
particularly in natural history, zeal, application, love and devotion, spring up 
spontaneously in the pupils. 

VI. Katural Philosophy, by A. Diesterweg. 

1 . Shmild natural philosophy be studied in the coTnmon school ? 

Certainly. Shall the children in the common school learn nothing of weather 
and wind, of thermometer and barometer, of the phenomena of light and air, of 
rain and snow, dew and hoar-frost, fog and clouds, lightning and thunder? 
shall they see the aeronaut, travel by steam, and read telegraphic news, without 
knowing the how and the why ? Shall they remain ignorant of the constituents 
of food, and of the process 9f their stomachs and their lungs ? Or is it sufficient 
to read of all this in the Reader? He who answers those questions in the 
affirmative, is either himself an ignoramus or a misanthrope, and he who affirms 
the last knows nothing of the way in which real knowledge is acquired. 

2. What do we begin with ? and when does the proper instruction in natural 
plulosophy commence ? 

As every where, with showing single phenomena, with intuitive contemplation, 
with oral representation of what has been observed, and reflection thereupon. 

"We begin with it in the intuitional instraction of the lowest class. The in- 
struction in geography and natural history develops further the faculty of intui- 
tion, and in the highest class the proper instruction in this branch commences. 

3. On what portions of natural philosophy are we to lay stress? 

On all such as belong to the knowledge of phenomena, within the pupil's 
sphere; the knowledge of the most common things is the cliief point. 

By this principle we make our choice ; we omit, therefore, all that is remote, 
invisible, and incapable of being made visible ; aU that can be demonstrated 
only by mathematical proofs ; and keep within the field of immediate observa- 
tion, stops with those tilings which every one may know by observation and 
experience, and show such things, as are not obvious, by experiments with 
simple and cheap apparatus. 

4. What method is to be used ? 

To say nothing of the regard for the individual quality of the pupil, the 
method depends on the nature of the subject, and on the way in which man 
naturally acquire." his knowledge. Every where man is surrounded by natural 
phenomena ; they happen before his eyes. These, therefore, must be opened, in 
order to observe appreliendingly, to remember what has been observed, to fix 
the succession of phenomena, and what is common in a series of similar ones ; 
not only to learn the facts, but also the laws by which they happen, and finally, 
by reflection, to discover the hidden causes. 

Natural philosopliy belongs to the inductive sciences, i. e., to those which 
begin with the knowledge of single facts, abstract from them the law of the 
process, and then in inverse order, deduce the phenomena from the causes. 

The way, therefore, prescribed by the nature, as weU as the history of natural 
philosophy, is, that which proceeds from observation and experience to rule and 
law, if possible, advancing to the cause, (the so-called regressive method.) 

5. What is the aim of this instruction ? 

The knowledge of the most essential phenomena, by which man is surrounded, 
and the ability to explain them, that is, to state in a simple way their causes. 

Most important is the knowledge of all that refers to weather, and we expect, 
therefore, from a graduating pupil, correct answers to the following questions: 



CATECHIiSM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 471 

"What is the temperature of the air in tlie different months of the year? 
"Which is the maximum and minimum of heat in our country, and when do they 
usually occur ? What is the corresponding state of temperature in other coun- 
tries? "What are its causes? How do the winds originate, where do they 
come from, and go to? What are the principal currents of air on the 
globe ? Their causes ? What weather is caused by the winds in our country ? 
To which wuads is our country chiefly exposed, and why ? Origin of fogs and 
clouds ? "What is dampness ? What causes rain 7 These and similar questions 
come so near home to man, that it would prove enormous dullness, if he did not 
ask them himself, and reflect, on answering them. No doubt that such stupidity 
is still frequent ; but no one will doubt what is the indispensable duty of the 
common school in the premises. 

VII. Astronomy, by A. Diesterweg. 

1. Is instructwn about the nature of the universe about astronomy, expedient? 
Most certainly ; we require the same from every man. To any one who does 

not admit that this is requisite, I address the following questions : Has that man 
an idea of the work of the Creator, and of his relation to both, who is ignorant 
of astronomy ? or even, is he a man ? No ; he is like a brute confined to a 
narrow sphere, and has not even learned to make the right use of his upright 
statm'e, and of his sense for the universe, the eye ; he has not enlarged his fac- 
ulty of obseiTing beyond tlie smallest compass, satisfied the inborn desire of 
knowledge, developed his intellect ; he might be compared to a mole that closes 
its eyes to the light. We justly pity the poor man who has had no opportunity 
to learn the wonders of the starry sky ; we despise him, if he has neglected an 
opportunity ; we blame indignantly whatever would prevent his acquiring that 
sublime and elevating knowledge. 

2. What should every body know of the universe ? 

He should know of infinite space, its laws, the qualities of the sun, the moon, 
and of our solar system, the relation of the planets to the sun, the position of 
the earth relatively to the same, its rotations and all that result therefrom, as 
years, seasons, day and night, in short, the substance of popular astronomy. 

3. How 'is the pupil to learn this ? 

By observation — not by books ; for from these we get empty words, hollow 
notions and phrases ; books may at best assist the preceding instruction, but 
they can never replace it — ask among the " educated " people, what ideas they 
have in this respect, though they have heard of all and can talk of all. The 
true, vivid and moving ideas of the great subjects in question are exclusively 
acquired by an intuitive, developing instruction. 

4. What, therefore, is the teacher to do f 

He stimulates the pupil to observations ; he makes him conscious of what has 
been observed, by iUustrative questions and conversations ; he draws his atten- 
tion to the sublime phenomena of the sky by day and night ; he talks over with 
hun such observations as can be made daily all the year round on sun and stars ; 
he fixes these observations in good order, and in clear, well defined propositions. 
Tliis is the first step. Scientifically expressed, the pupil advances to the point 
of view — of what appears to the senses — of spherical astronomy. 

This point being attained, considerately and firmly, (we must know first what 
appears, before we learn what is,) then reflection follows, whether the things 
really are such as they appear. The pupQ advances from appearance to essence 
or nature. This step is very important, not only in astronomy, but in all 



472 CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 

things, and astronomy, for the very reason tliat it furnishes the clearest and 
greatest example of this important progress in human education, is of inestima- 
ble value. The pupil learns the nature of the things ; his perceiving is raised 
to knowing. Disorder becomes order, variety uniformity, and chaos rule and 
law. One power reigns in the universe, every thing obeys his laws, and every 
where there results order, harmony, development, life; and each heavenly 
body becomes a part of the universe in its infinite sublimity and brightness. 

It is worth while, not only to hear or to read of that, but to know and to un- 
derstand it. The pupils now advance to theoretic and the jthysical astronomy. 

At last there commences the construction of the whole, at least of our solar 
system, out of the centre. From the beginning, instruction proceeds from the 
periphery, from the point on which the pupil stands; the individual is himself 
the centre, around which every thing is grouped, and to which every thing ia 
referred ; the observation is suhjedive. Afterward, it is made objective, and man 
recognizes himself, the human race and the globe, as a part of the infinite 
universe. 

5. What has the teacher to attend to more particularly ? 

This necessary instruction being still uncommon, we may give here several 
suggestions : 

(a) He excludes every thing that can not be brought to sight. 

(b) He goes always from observation and experience over to reflection and 
deduction. Astronomy is an inductive science ; hence teaching follows the in- 
ductive method. The teacher does not '^dociren" (teach or lecture,) he guides; 
he does not say one single sentence that could not be found by the pupils them- 
seves ; for such as can not be found by them — except historical notices — are 
not fit for them. 

(c) He fixes the results in the most definite and pregnant expressions. 

(d) He brings the things observed, thought, spoken of, to view on the black- 
board, and directs the pupils to similar representations. But he does not begin 
with drawing, this is secondary to the finding of perceptions. He employs 
every where the pupil's imagination ; astronomy is an excellent means to lead 
it on a sure and safe way. Drawing proves the correctness of the ideas, therefore 
it should not precede. If the pupil makes a correct drawing, it is the surest 
proof of his having viewed and reflected right. 

(e) He abstains throughout from any use of models, (telluria, lunaria, etc.) 
They serve afterward as proof, but they may be entirely done without. Who 
uses them in the beginning, is wrong ; who requires the pupils to transfer that 
which is represented by those models, to the universe, requires what is impos- 
sible ; nobody succeeds. The value of models, even of the best, is very much 
confined. They show the apparent things better than the real ; but even for 
the former they are not necessary. The teacher may sometimes, by means of 
a larger and smaller globe, a candle, etc., represent every thing needed. 
But the perception and representation of what is going on in space, even with 
shut eyes, is what is indispensable, because it is the principal thing. "Whoever 
does not succeed so far, does not really know or understand. 

He who wants to know more, may read my "Astronomical Geography," (Astro- 
nomische Geographic^ fifth edition, Berlin, 1855, \\ thaler. (We may add, that 
this book of Diesterweg's is universally considered as a master-piece of 
method, — Ed,) 



CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 473 

VIII. Geography. By Abbexrode. 

1. What are tlie principles on luhich tlie present methods of teaching geography 
•re ba^ed f 

They are intimately connected with the general principles of education. Some 
consider it necessary to proceed from a general view of the globe, in order to 
gain at first a general outline, — a scaffold, by means of which the building may 
be gradually constructed in all its details, — and this in such a way that the pupil 
shall remain always conscious of the relation of the several parts to the whole, 
and that the latter itself shall gradually be made more and more perspicuous in 
all respects. 

Others think that the beginner should first be led into a sphere commensurate 
with his faculties, near to him and capable of being surveyed by his bodily eye ; 
and that he ought to be made familiar with it, in order to sharpen his sight and 
tongue for the later geographical perceptions, and the intellect for the relations 
more and more complicated. Then, and not before, the boundaries of this field 
should be gradually extended, to give his growing powers more extended exer- 
cise, until, at last, in the highest grade of his studies, the whole earth is cou- 
sidered in all its various relations.* 

Otliers again are of opinion, that the mere observing, hearing and speaking 
of geographical matter, does not give thorough knowledge; that it is requisite 
to appeal to the spontaneous activity of the pupils themselves, and to cause 
them gradually to complete drawn or pictured representations of the localities 
studied. This method they say is not only in harmonj'^ with the juvenile inclina- 
tion to such work, but gives an indelible knowledge of what is pictured, par- 
ticularly of its relations of form and surface ; which will serve as a solid basis 
for all further instruction. 

On these three foundations rest the ideas of the geographical methods now in 
use, — the analytical, synthetical and constructive, (drawing,) method, each of 
which, in practice, admits of various modifications. 

2. What art the peculiar advantages and disadvantages of the analytical 
method? 

One advantage that should not be undervalued is, that it designedly keeps in 
view the connection of the several parts of the earth to the whole, so that, from 
the beginning, all discontinuance of the perceptions is avoided. It most carefully 
regards especially the topical and physical elements, as well as the necessity of 
graphic representation. It, however, has this peculiar disadvantage, that it 

* Roiimer, in his "Contrib.itiuns to Pedagogy" lins a valudble chnjiter on tenching geography, 
which will be found entire in Barnard's ''Jlmerican Journal of Education," Vol. VHI , p. Ill — ]22. 
He guards teachers against the too frequent or extreme application of Rousseau's suggestions, that 
tiie walks of children should supply lessons for map-drawing in the school-room, lest the schol- 
ars begin to look on themselves as peripatetic lessons, and get a dislike to geographical reading and 
study. He advises the use of the map of the city or town in which scholars reside, as an introduc- 
tion to the understanding of maps and even the globe. He advises that special attention should be 
paid to oceans, mountains, and rivers, as they help to fix the great facts of history; and of cities, 
as the most ancient monuments of men. Their sites seldom change ; and, with few exceptions, the 
name of a city once great and flourishing never disappears from the earth or from human history. 
The poetic side of this study should be cultivated ; and the reading of travels, and of the news ol 
the day, and the transactions of commerce, should be associated with it. 



474 CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 

forces upon the pupil the perception of the whole, at a time when he is not yet 
able to comprehend it fully ; and, in particular, not to understand the general 
relations of climate, soil, produce, etc. It is unpossible to carry the beginner 
along at once in all the collateral studies, e. g., in natural knowledge, so as to 
thoroughly acquaint him with all these elements. Many things consequently 
remain an undigested mass, gathered and retained merely in the hope of future 
understanding. 

3. By ivliom has the analytical method been particularly recommended? 

The "philanthropist," Guts-Muths, has, in his "Essay on methodical instruc- 
tion in geography," {Versuch einer Methodik des geographisches Unterrichts, 1845,) 
exclusively advocated the analytical method, which is also used almost exclu- 
sively in scientific works. (See Berghaus, Boon, Kalkstein, Rode, Earth, 
ViehofT, etc.) Some have attempted to lessen the inconvenience of analysis, by 
dividing the material into appropriate courses. 

4. In ivhal respect has the synthetical method of teaching geography unquestion- 
able value. 

In that, according to correct principles of pedagogy, a small and easily com- 
prehensible space is treated at the outset; that the most "concrete" things, 
easily understood by the children, form the ground- work of further instruction ; 
that these small districts or parts are by this method made vividly distinct 
wholes, the gradual extension of which, and its increasing variety, are well 
accommodated to the gradual development of the pupil's mind. The subjects 
and relations thus learned are at the same time the elements of all geographical 
instruction, iloreover, by this method the pupil gains, within a reasonable time, 
and in an orderly way, a desirable fimiiliarity with his native place and country ; 
and in case the extent of his studies has to be curtailed, the more remote parts 
of the globe would be omitted, rather than those with which the scholar and his 
life are closely connected, and which, therefore, must be most important to him. 
This method, likewise, admits of laying out definite courses. However, the 
strict and complete carrying out of it, would lead to an improper extension of 
the field to be gone through, and might, by tiresome repetition, cause other 
disadvantages. 

5. Who advocate the synthetical method? 

Charles Ritter, (see Guts-Muths, BibliotheJc;) Henning, "Guide to methodical 
instruction in geography;" {Leitfaden zu einem meihodischen unterricht in 
der geographie, 1812;) Harnisch, "Geography," (Weltkunde;) Diesterweg, 
"Introduction to methodical instruction in geography," {Anleitung zu einem 
methodischen unterricht in der geograp)hie i) and Ziemann, "Geographical instruc- 
tion in the burger schools, {Geographische unterricht in Biirgerschulen, 1833.) 

6. What is to be thought of a combination of these two methods ? 

Strict consistency in either of them leads inevitably to many inconveniences. 
Therefore, we must either follow one in the main and make aU kinds of excep- 
tional uses of the other, or contrive to combine them judiciously. It is a great 
concession made to the synthetical method by the analytical, that the latter 
should permit, as introductory to the proper geographical course, a preliminary 
one, to include observation of the neighborhood and its objects ; drawing easy 
sketches of the school-room, house, garden, etc.; instruction in measures of 
length and breadth, (if possible in the open air ;) experiments in sketching the 
neighborhood from an elevated point, with estimates of area by eye, on a small 
scale, (for children of 7-8 years ;) and geographical instruction ou the native 



CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 475 

country, (province or state,) with an occasional exposition of the elenientary 
geographical conceptions. Bormann, who tries to combine the best parts of the 
two methods, makes the first described preliminary course, (somewhat modified, 
and with the addition of observations of the most simple phenomena of the sky,) 
his first course; giving in the 5eco?^(^ a view of the globe, with instruction upon 
its principal imaginary lines, and the drawing of them, with a general view of 
Europe, and a particular one of Germany ; advancing in the third course, to a 
more accurate description of Germany, followed by a view of the other Euro- 
l^ean and extra-European countries. Such a combination may be considered as 
appropriate and practical ; still it is not the only one possible. 

1. What are the advantages of the constructive, {drawing,) method ? 

The drawing method proposes, by construction of maps, instruction in the 
elements of such construction, before all regular teaching, to furnish the basis 
and means of all geographical knowledge. It places especial value on the 
creative activity of the pupils ; and upon such an impression of the pictures 
drawn, that this may be indehble and vivid in the pupil's mind, and form the 
foundation on which future geographical teaching shall rest. The accuracy and 
strictness which tliis method gives in fixing and enlarging the forms is unques- 
tionably very valuable, for very much depends on a thorough acquaintance with 
these forms. A designedly and gradual advance from the most general ground- 
forms to the more correct contours, and filling them out afterward with 
details of surface, is quite correspondent with pedagogical principles. This 
method, however, requires far too much in the way of accurate memory of 
numerous localities laid down. Geography contains still many other things of 
essential value, for which there would scarcely remain sufficient time and 
interest. 

8. How is this constructive method usually carried out in detail f 

Agren, general text-book, Part 1, Physical Geography, (Allgemeines 
Lehrluch: physische Erdbeschreibung,) Berhn, 1832, would first have the 
maps of the two hemispheres drawn, on a planispherical projection. Some 
characteristic points, (capes, mouths of rivers, etc.,) are then to be fixed and 
joined by straight lines, to gain a sort of ground-plan of the area. The formation 
of the coast comes next, and afterward the parts of the surface are put in, — all 
by fixed and defined rules. This method, therefore, distinguishes between 
description of the coast and of the surface. 

Kapp, "Course of Geographical Drawing," {Lehrgang der Zeichnenden 
Erdkunde,) Minden, 1837, takes the square form as a basis, and likewise assumes 
some characteristic points in the same, which he joins at first by straight lines, 
until successive corrections give the right representation. 

Kloden rejects the gradual elaboration of the right map. According to him 
it must be drawn accurately from the very beginning by aid of some determining 
lines. 

Canstein takes neither the whole geographical net of Unes nor the form of a 
square ; but any convenient geometrical figures, as triangles, rectangles, circles, 
etc., and uses but few meridians and parallel circles. He admits no copying, 
nor does he aim at strict accuracy in all determinations of boundaries and 
directions. 

Lohse keeps to the normal directions of the rivers ; has copies made from a 
given model-drawing, and requires a memory of what has been drawn. 



476 CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 

Oppermann, "Guide to Geographical Instruction," {Leitfaden zum geographis- 
chen unterrichQ gives the pupils the right maps, ready made, in accurate 
contours, has tliose contours painted over in the succession in which the 
countries occur in the lessons, and then the details of the surface put in. 

Kloden's method, (see above,) seems to be the best. On the plan of Bormann 
and Vogel, the pupils have skeleton maps, with the chief positions already 
marked, (see the maps of Vogel, Freihold, Holle, etc.,) and gradually draw the 
correct maps. * 

9. To what limitations is the constructive method subject in the common schools f 
The drawing of maps, (by which must not be understood mechanical copy- 
ing,) can not of course begin until the scholars have skill in drawing generally 
Eufficieut to construct a relatively correct map with some success. But geo- 
graphical instruction itself can not be put off until that time ; therefore, draw- 
ing maps can not be placed at the beginning, hut must take its place in a higher 
grade. Again, unless geography is to occupy all the study and leisure time of 
the pupils with making neat maps, not entire atlases, but only a few maps, 
can be drawn, (that of the native province and countrj^, of one or another 
country of Europe, of Palestine, etc.; but scarcely, with advantage, the two 
planispheres.) At school, there is not time to draw every thing, and if there 
were, it would be better used in other tilings, since map-drawing, an excellent 
aid to geographical instruction, is not that instruction itself 

10. What is the proper introduction to teaching geography ? 

It must be preceded by an acquaintance with the relations of space in the 
immediate neighborhood, and with the geographical objects there, as well as by 
an elementary knowledge of maps, and thus of elementary conceptions, for the 
sake of conversing on the same ; else the pupO can not understand clearly nor ' 
advance successfully. 

11. What is the value of a preliminary course, {Yorcursus,) intended exchisively 
for explaining the fundamental conceptions ? 

Those conceptions are indispensable ; but to bring them all together in an es- 
pecial course and to premise them to further instruction, is a pedagogical mistake, 
more inexcusable, in proportion as the course is more extended and abstract. 
In the same measure as instruction proceeds, the detail and quantity of accurate 
geographical notions may increase. But the beginning is sufiBciently taken up 
by the first and most general of them, which are to be immediately applied. 
Excessive and premature expansion is injurious instead of usefiil. Much more 
is to be gained by actual observation of the elements of the neighboring land- 
scape, with a view of frequent application afterward. 

12. What are the practical details requisite in geography? 

There is much to be observed, compared, understood, deduced, combined, 
impressed, represented. These, therefore, must be cared for, in teaching. The 
means of observation ought to be used in manifold ways, in order to gain the 
most correct image of the nature and life of the countries, and to illustrate and 
fix the same by all sorts of proper comparisons of the portions treated. 

The teacher's statements should be clear, careful, stimulating, graphic, and 
definite; ought to leave the map only exceptionally ; and should be adapted to 
fix the image in the pupil's mind. He must show how to draw conclusions 
from given natural conditions, to infer elements from given relations, to transfer 
the relations of the neighborhood to distant countries, and to combine partiaJ 



CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 477 

notions into a whole. So far, the teacher's work is substantially that of com- 
munication. Mere reading, or uninterrupted talking, does not in the least 
accomplish the right work of geographical instruction. 

The next important object is drilling, by a repeated review in the same order, 
or by an appropriate course over similar fields, by exhibiting sufficient represent- 
ations of objects which can be impressed only mechanicallj-, by imaginary 
travels with or without the map, by drawing maps from memory, by written 
answers to principal questions, etc. Hence, it follows tliat teacliing geography 
requires manifold efforts, and that the teacher must be a good geographer and 
an able teacher, to be very successful. 

13. What position in geographical instruction is due to reading from the map? 
At present it is no longer sufficient, with text-book in hand, to merely point 

on the map, what is spoken of in the book, — situation and boundaries of coun- 
tries, beds of rivers, chains of mountains, places of cities, etc. The teacher 
must know how to read maps, and to teach them; i. e., not only to describe what 
figures and in what order and connection tliey stand on the map, but to translate 
the map, line by line, into the real world, in order that this be faitlifully impressed 
in the mind, to be at any time reconstructed from it. He must understand the 
contents and meaning of the hieroglyphics of the map, and know how to 
exhibit them in an orderly and appropriate way, as we read a book. In reading 
a book, it does not suffice to find out the letters, to comprehend the single 
words and their conceptions, but the whole idea must be clearly understood and 
reproduced. The study of the map ought to render a great deal of the usual 
contents of the geographical text-books quite superfluous, that the pupil may 
not cling slavishly to the dead letters of the text-book, but may depend on the 
lively picture of a good map. (See Bormann and Sydow on reading maps.) 

14. What is the value of the ^'■comparative method" of teaching geography? 

If the material were such that all parts of it should be learnt quite separately 
from each otiier, it would not be worth while to use this method ; for the gain 
in mental cultivation would be small. But since numerous conditions are the 
same or similar in many countries, it is natural, even for externally facilitating 
the understanding, to try, by comparing them with those of other countries, to 
know the nature of both countries and the effect of those conditions on nature 
Situation, boundary, size, elevation, watering, climate, produce, population, 
means of commerce and travel, etc., and many other subjects, are suitable for 
comparisons. Tiie comparison itself is an excellent introduction to the object, 
induces more acute observations, memory, reflection, a sagacious detection of 
ditferences, and becomes thus an efficient means of cultivating the mind. It is 
this which makes geography a refreshing as well as scientific exercise of the 
mind ; since the mastering of a more or less extended scientific apparatus Ls 
both a means and an end. However, even in a small sphere and at the first 
beginning, these comparisons may be used, and then, as the student's horizon 
gradually expands, they will become more various, attractive and instructive, 
and will preserve the mind from that fragmentary and mechanical learning, by 
which the end can not be attained. 

15. What success may he expected from geographical pictures ? 

Maps are but symbols of real nature : they represent by a hieroglyphic type 
a number of natural elements for large territories, witliout being able to represent 
correctly the real objects of small areas. But, a well-designed and sufficiently 
copious collection of vivid and correct pictures, on an appropriate scale, well 



478 CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 

colored, containing mountains, valleys, plains, rivers, woods, prairies, fields, 
houses, bridges, ships, men, anunals, etc.; or a choice collection representing 
the cooperating elements of nature in the most various places, in all zones, 
would be in a high degree instructive for tlie more advanced scholars. Then the 
eye might survey the whole landscape of natural and human life in its mutuality 
and connection, and would bring near the characteristics of the most distant 
countries ; nearer than is possible by the most vivid description in words with the 
map only. For beginners, such pictures would be distracting ; but, at an 
advanced period of instruction, nothing could be more useful. They would en- 
liven the oral descriptions, and their impression would endure for life. With 
this conviction, some editors of maps, (see Vogel's Atlas,) have renewed the 
illustrations of maps, common in the middle of the past century, by no means 
merely for mere ornament, and have added marginal designs from the natural 
history of the world. Even in mathematico and physico-geographical maps, 
(see Berghaus' Physical Atlas,) this idea is made use of 

16. What is the value of the so-called characteristic pictures, (Characterbilder?) 
It may be said, briefly, that the geographical Characterbilder, i. e., character- 
istic representations or descriptions of certain districts, afford a sensible view of 
the real life of nature, by developing, as upon a single characteristic locality 
of the globe, by the use of elements found elsewhere, with some modifications, 
the totality of tliis life in its various respects and relations. By a well-selected 
succession of such representations, the sections, as it were, of a picture of the 
whole earth, are given, and may afterward be joined into a whole. If they are 
written ably and sensibly, they have, besides their geographical importance, a 
great influence on sesthetic and linguistic education. It might be questioned 
whether near or distant countries are to be chosen, since the latter contain the 
greater number of unknown things ; but practical teachers will prefer to begin 
with what lies nearest, and must, therefore, be most important for every one ; 
as moreover this material contams enough to be learned by a beginner. (See 
Vogel's and Grrube's " Characterbilder.'') 

17. What position should be allowed to the geography of civilization, (cuUurgeo- 
graphic ?) 

It is not the earth, with its life, but man upon it, with his life, which is most 
interesting to man. The former interests us only on account of its intimate 
connection with the latter. To explain this connection is the difficult problem 
of "culture-geography;" which, for working out all the most different influences 
of life and nature into a transparent and ingenious whole, requires the highest 
degree of mental power, and has its place, if anywhere, only at the end of geo- 
graphical instruction. Several movements of the human race must be discussed 
previously, and a satisfactory understanding of them is probably in all cases 
very doubtful with scholars who are not sufSciently prepared for it. 

1. Guts-Muths, {Versv^h, <fcc.) Weimar, 1845. See above. No. 3, analytical 
method. 

18. What works on methodic instruction in geography are particularly tuoflh 
considering ? 

2. Liidde, "Methods in Geography," {Die meihodik der Erdkunde,) Mag- 
deburg, 1842. This is not confined to the wants of common schools, but gives 
academic instruction. 

3 Zeune, " The three steps in Geography," {Die drei stufen der erdkunde, 



CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 479 

Berlin, 1844, aims at laying the foundation of a strictly scientific instruction 
on tho basis of a natural view of the earth, (in opposition to the historical ;) 
which character also predominates in Zeune's Gaea. 

4. Henning, " Guide to methodical instruction in geography," (LeUfaden heim 
methodischen unterricht in der geograpMe,) Iferten, 1812. See Pioneers of the 
synthetical method, No. 5. 

5. Ziomann. See above. No. 5. 

6. Gorbrich, " Introduction to geographical instruction in common schools," 
(Anleitung zum erdkundlichen Unterricht in der Volksschule,) Wien, (Vienna,) 
1853. A synthetical method ; plain and clear. 

7. Otto, " Universal method of geographical instruction," (Allgemeine meihodik 
des geographischen Unterrichis,) Erfurt, 1839. Adheres to Guts-Muths, but 
uses the advantages of the synthetical method. 

8. Agren. See above. No. 8 ; constructive method. 

0. Kapp. See No. 8. 

10. Canstein, " Attempt at a free delineation of the physical surface of the 
earth, by a simple method of construction," {Anleitung, die physischen Erdraume 
miitelst einfacher Construction aus freier Hand zu eniiuerfen,) Berlin, 1835. See 
No. 8. 

See also, the introductions to Harnisch's "Weltlcunde,^^ and Diesterweg's 
'^Rheinprovinzen ;" the essays in Mager's pedagogical "Eevue" 1840 and 1841 ; 
in the '^ SchulNatt der provinz Brandenburg " 1847 and 1850; in Low's peda- 
gogical " Monatschrifl,^^ 1847 ; in the programme of Bender's Institute, in 
Weinheim, 1850; in the General School Gazette of Darmstadt, 1845; (see 
Finger, "Instruction in the knowledge of the native country," {Unterricht in 
der ffeimathJiunde,) Leipzig, 1844;) in the pedagogical" Jahresherichi," o^'Najcke 
I., III., v., VIII., 1846-53. A historical exposition of geographical methodology 
is found in Zeune's "Views of the Earth," {Erdansicliten,) and a compilation 
of tlie " Latest views upon geography and their application to school instruc- 
tion," {Muesten Ansichien von der Erdkunde und ihrer Anwendung auf den 
Schulunterricht,) in Lichtenstern's book with that title. 

19. What looks on mathematical geography are thehest? 

1. Diesterw^eg, " Astronomical geography and popular knowledge of the 
Heavens," {Astronomische geogropihie und populare Himmelskunde,) Berlin, 1855. 
5 editions. The best of all. 

2. Wiegand, " Principles of mathematical geography," {Grundriss der mathe- 
matischen geographie^)'E.Oi\\e, 1853. Practical and good. 

3. Brettner, "Mathematical Geography," {Mathemat ische geographie,) Breslan, 
1850. Quite practical and popular. 

The chapters concerning mathematical geography are excellent in Raumer's 
"Manual of Universal Geograph}'-," {Lehrluch der allgemeinen geographic,) Leip- 
zig, 1848; in Roon's greater geographical work, "The earth, its races and 
states," {E'rd, Volker, und Si-aaten-kunck ;) and inBerghaus' " Rudiments of Geogra- 
phy, in five books," {Grundriss der geographie in funf Buchern,) Breslau, 1840. 

Of books on popular astronomy, very good ones are Kaiser's " Starry Heav- 
ens," {Sternenhimmel,) very clear; Littrow's "Wonders of the Heavens," 
{Wunder des Himmek ;) Stern's "Knowledge of the Heavens," {Himmelskunde;) 
Schulze's Astronomy; Miidler's Popular Astronomy; Hartmann's Urania; and 
Airy's and Brando's Lectures on Astronomy. 



480 CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING 

20. What hoo7{s on physical geography may he recommended? 

Berghaus, Roon, Raumer, Rougemont, Kalkstein, Guyot, Guts-Muths, Ewald, 
Somerville, Reusclile, K. V. Hoffmann, W. Hoffmann, Schouw ; besides, the 
" Characterbilder " of Grube and Vogel, and shorter works by Viehoft', Corne- 
lius, Ball, Buff, Atzerodt, Gambihler, Gude, etc. 

21 What text-hoolis on political geography are the most popular ? 

Tlie number of politico-statistical geograpliies is enormous. As most promi- 
nent, we may name those of Viilter, Roon, Schacht ; as very common, those of Bor- 
mann, Daniel, Selten, Voigt, Volger, Seydlitz, K. A. Hoffmann, Zacharise, Stein- 
Horschelmann ; as shorter ones, those of Liiben, Stahlberg, Mcibus, Ohlert, 
Petersen ; as very good, those of Rhode and Earth ; as larger ones, those of 
Ungewitter, Blanc, Wappaens, W. Hoffmann, etc. 

The new discoveries are found in Froriep's "Almanac," (Jahrhuch;) in Berg- 
haus' Jahrbuch; In Ludde^s "Gazette of Geography," {Zeiischrift fi'ir Erdkunde;) 
in Gumpreclit's Zeitschrift ; in Petermann's "Contributions," " Mittheilungen." 

22. What works are there upon Geography of the native country? 

Not so many as might be expected. For the geography of Prussia, Schneider, 
Schmidt, Uvermann, Yossnack, Natzmer; for that of Germany, Guts-Muths, 
Hoffmann, Winderlich, Billig, Curtmann, Vogel, Duller, etc. 

23. Which maps are the best f 

The wall-maps, (wandkarten,) of Sydow, Roost, K. V. Hoffmann, Stiilpnagel, 
Grimm, Holle, Winkelmann, etc.; the hand and school-maps of Sydow, Berg- 
haus, R. and Th. Lichtenstem, Viilter, Stieler, Bauerkeller, Grimm, Kiepert, 
Kutscheit, Winkelmann, Roost, Glaser, Wagner, Piatt, Holle, Voigt, Gross, 
Vogel, Schuberth. For physical geography, Berghaus' Physical Hand Atlas, 
and his Schulatlas, are classical ; and Bromme's Atlas, to Humboldt's Kosmos, 
very good.* 

IX. History. By Abbenrode. 

1. What are the material conditions requisite to make history an important means 
of menial cultivation ? 

The material ought to be selected with reference to the intellectual standing 
and wants of the pupil, to be formed into a well-systematized whole, and to be 
so used in teaching that, by its vividness and truth, as well as by its attractive- 
ness for the juvenile mind, it may arouse and strengthen, improve morally, 
prepare the pupil worthily for practical life, and nourish in him a Christian spirit 
Of course, the character of the nation to which the pupil belongs, is prominently 
to be considered. 

2. What personal conditions influence the cultivating poiuer of the study of 
history f 

As the totality of the pupil's individuality requires, in historical construction, 
great regard, and as very much depends on the tact with which his mental 
powers are nourished, so the effect of history on his mind depends even more 
on the ability and character of the teacher. Unless he possesses, together with 
the requisite external skill, a sufficient knowledge of history, true piety, and a 

Note. Especial reviews of a long number of books and maps are in Nacke's " Educational 
Annual," {Petlagog. Jahresbericht.) I., III., V., VII., and in KliJden's review of modern 
maps in the ' School Gazette of Brandenburg," (Schulblalt des provinz Brandenburg,) 1845 
and 1S46. 



CATECmsM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 481 

noble heart; and unless, besides being a man of veracity, he has acquired consci- 
entious impartiality and the circumspect calmness of a clear judgment, he can 
not hope that his pupils will experience the cultivating power of history. 

3. Wiai are the leading characteristics of the proper material 1 

The most essential of these materials are, a, the political, under certain modi- 
fications, particularly that of the native co\mtry ; b, history of civilization, under 
some limitations ; particularly, that of the Christian church. Though the ma- 
terial chosen under either of these heads may be throughout kept asunder, andi 
in fact, has been so very often in historical works, yet an appropriate combina- 
tion of the two for construction must be recommended, since they supplement 
one another usefullj'', and, in practice, admit quite well of this mutual compensa- 
tion. Our German youth need, above all, the history of Germany, and where 
there is occasion, the attention should be fixed on the ecclesiastical, scientific, 
and artistical development, as well as on the formation of tlie character and 
manners of the nations. Which of the two sides, and in what proportion, is to 
predominate, depends on the particular wants of the pupils : stiU the history 
of the church is of especial value. 

4. What are the principles of teaching history in school? 

Historical instruction requires in all cases a narrative form. In proportion to 
age and ability, the narrative will have the character either of biography and 
monography, or will represent, in chronological order, definite groups of histori- 
cal facts in their interior connection; without any exaltation of the authors of 
the events very high above the common level of life. In either case the teacher 
may choose an ethnographical, or a synehronistical order. The pragmatical 
method, right and important in itself, has in most cases at school, an unsatisfao- 
tory result, even in higher schools ; since even the well-prepared students of the 
gymnasia, (colleges,) want the maturity of hfe which must aid the pragmatical 
understanding. Finally, the method of universal history is quite unsuitable to 
schools. 

5. How have those principles been practically used and expressed hitherto? 
History has been, from the most ancient times, written and taught in all 

forms. It has been a monumental narrative of the exploits of whole nations 
and privileged individuals. Each ancient people has, out of a certain necessity, 
written and taught its own history, — some classically, — for all time. Besides, 
modern nations have taken hold of the history of other countries, particularly 
of old Greece and Rome, and reflected them in the mirror of their own percep- 
tion ; they have created the representation of a history of the world, — general 
history. This has led to teaching general history, either connected with that of 
the church or separate from it. The almost exclusively "scientific" method of 
treating the same in writing and teaching made it suitable only for such as wanted 
a "scientific," (collegiate, etc.,) education. Others neither could nor should learn 
it. But, since a common inclination to acquire historical knowledge has sprung 
up, in consequence of a more general education in better schools, it suffices no 
longer to confine this instruction to the disciples of science, nor to satisfy with 
general notices from history. Tlie people, even in the lowest classes, will — and 
should — partake of it. This has led to manifold and successful attempts to find 
a suitable way of treating history, and to give the common school a share in its 
profits. 

Several popular and practical methods of teachmg history have arisen, which, 
though differing in many respects, agree very much in their fundamental ideas. 



482 CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 

These methods may be distinguished first, as being chiefly restricted, the one to 
biographical and monographical narrations, the other to the natural and temporal 
connection of historical events. In the former case the chief persons and events 
to be spoken of are at first arranged by beginning from modem times and pro- 
ceeding in a retrograde order to certain primary epochs, in order to review the 
whole afterward, from these points, more thoroughly, by descending in the 
natural order of time. Or, the most important phases of the development of 
national and political life are made the centres of an arrangement, by groups, 
which treats the facts and persons that are the types of that development, 
through all time, in definite periods, and only occasional side-looks are cast on 
cotemporaneous events. 

In the other case, either the historical material is arranged in chronological 
order, and divided, according to its nature in the different ages, amongst single 
nations, (ethnographically,) from their rise till their fall ; or, all nations are treat- 
ed side by side at the same time, in periods, (synchronistically,) in order, on 
arriving at each new epoch, to gain a general view of the development of the 
whole human race. 

In both cases it is either the history of the native country or the general his- 
tory of civilization, or that of the Christian church, by which the point of view 
is regulated, and on which the chief stress is laid. 

6. What are the advantages of the biographical method"? 

As long as it is of consequence to arouse the historical sense of beginners, 
and while these are not so far advanced as to understand the general state of a 
nation, since their interest for individuals preponderates, so long it is quite natu- 
ral and profitable to join all history substantially with the biography of the 
representative chief men, at the same time with which the outlines of the chief 
events may be surveyed. Even at a later stage, the biographical element has a 
high value, since it may give, along with narratives of individual experience, 
especial relations of the general development of events, such as facilitate their 
understanding and enlarge knowledge at the same time. Even the hidden mo- 
tives of facts are not laid open to the historian, until he has looked sharply into 
the particular life of the leading and cooperating individuals, who either receive 
or help to give the character of their time. We may add the general human 
interest excited by personal experiences of life, and the moral infiuence exerted 
on susceptible minds. Dry generalities and outlines can of course never excite 
such a lively interest as good biographical narrations. 

7. What are the objections to the exclusive use of the biographical method? 

A mere succession of separate biographies will never show the real course of 
the general development of history ; they are, even the best, mere fragments 
and portions, but not history itself in its inner moral connection. Moreover, the 
description of the outward life of historical persons, as sufScient for beginners, 
is indeed generally not difficult; yet it is so, in a high degree, to enter into their 
inner life and character, whence all their actions origmate. It presupposes so 
much knowledge of the human mind, so much self-denial and impartiahty, re- 
quires such an expanded and detaQed knowledge of the material for understand- 
ing motives, that it is as rare to find good biographies, as it is rare to find those 
conditions combined in one man. The usual biographies swarm with generalities 
^and partial judgments. 

8. What is the value of the regressive method ? 

Strictly speaking, the regressive method is the preferable one for historical 



CATECfflSM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 483 

research. Facing the events, it inquires into their immediate causes, and goea 
back to the remoter ones, in order to reconstruct philosophically the history 
which has been developed accordmg to a higher and divine plan. So far as the 
method of research is to be represented by the method of teaching, — as it some- 
times has been required, — the regressive proceeding is correct; besides, it ia 
formally practicable without difficulty. But it is contrary to the process of his- 
torical narration, and begins almost necessarily from characters and epochs of 
modem times, by far too complicated for beginners, and such as to prevent 
usually the combination of truth with popularity. Besides, this method could 
be applied only at the beginning, and would soon necessarily pass over into tho 
cbtronological one. 

9. How far is the chronological method valuable f 

The historical events develop themselves in time ; the natural course of the 
latter is, therefore, both back-ground and frame of the former, since it constitutes 
the thread of the narration. Time facilitates comprehension, remembrance, and 
comparison of historical movements ; it marks best the sections and epochs of 
development, favors thus the rudiments of historical instruction, and, in general, 
is indispensable. History may be treated in the one or the other way, with 
beginners, or with advanced scholars; but the succession of time must be 
necessarily cared for. 

10 Under ivJiat circumstances is the ethnographical method suitable f 

After the primary course, which lays the foundation, (biographical and mono- 
graphical,) has been finished, and a second one has led nearer the more general 
connection of the chief movements in history, then it may be useful to pursue 
the history of the prominent modern nations, ethnographically, from their first 
rise until their present state. In ancient history it is a matter of course to pro- 
ceed chiefly in the ethnographical way, because those nations have led for a long 
time a separate life, and after a victorious conflict with neighboring nations have 
merged them in their own life. 

11. What are 'he difficulties of the grouping method f 

The idea of pursuing material similar, by interior connection, through all 
centuries, and of joining it into a whole, is in itself well enough. But, on the 
part of the teacher it requires an unusual knowledge of particulars in the devel- 
opment of nations ; and, on the other hand, the problem is too hard for the juve- 
nile mind. It may be, that many things can be omitted, or at least treated sepa- 
rately as a matter of secondary interest ; but, it is questionable whether they 
would be advantageous with reference to the whole. Besides, the hard problem 
must be solved of connecting finally the single parts of development into a 
totality. 

This method, even for the especial history of a nation, the German for 
instance, is attended with great difficulties, but these would increase, if it should 
be applied to all other civilized nations. For, by its nature, it lays the chief 
stress on the development of civilization, and displays but on such points the 
characteristic picture more fully, when it is desirable, from a national and 
patriotic point of view. The entu-e plan, so far as I know, has not yet been 
practically carried through. 

12. When has the synchronistical rtiethod its right place f 

Synchronism is not suitable for beginners. It requires an advanced standing; 
to view the contents of entire periods of the development of nations, and 
tmderstandingly to pursue the gradual progress in it. To whoever is not able 



484 CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING, 

to survey that progress in its degrees, and, when arrived at a remarkably high 
point, to bring afterward the different conditions of otlier nations to view, inter- 
weaving them with the former picture, and thus to compose a totality of those 
intermixed developments, to him a synchronistical treatment of history remains 
sterile. Therefore, scarcely even the pupils of the first claas, in our higher 
seminaries of learning, can be considered as sufficiently prepared for it. 

13. Wlio has recomynended (he biographical method ? 

It may be said the entire modem school has unanimously recognized it as the 
best and most suitable for beginners. For this grade, nearly all modern methodic 
histories contain only such material as is fit for biographical instruction. In 
higher schools, a biographical course has been arranged in the lowest classes, 
and approved everywhere by the authorities. 

14. Who has recommended the regressive method ? 

Dr. Kapp, in his general work, " Scientific school instruction as a whole," 
(der wissenschnfUiche Schulunterricht als ein Ganzes,) Hamm, 1834, is one of the 
first. Dr. Jacobi has recommended it, especially for the history of the native 
country, "Outhnes of a new method, &c.," {Grundzuge einer neuenmethode, etc.,) 
Niirnberg, 1839. 

15. What is the origin of the chronological method ? 

From time immemorial scarcely any other method has been used in Germany 
than this; now joining synchronism, now following the ethnographical principle. 
Until this hour it prevails in the majority of schools, of classical histories, and 
of text-books on history. It has been modified by many competent historians 
and teachers, for the various purposes of elementary, burgher, and real schools, 
and gymnasia. Some introduce it by mythology, others by a biographical 
course. Some give the first place to ancient history, others to national history ; 
others, again, attempt to suit the various wants, by a particular partition of the 
material, by aU sorts of principles of treatment, by accommodation to the 
different stages of life, or by raising certain historical pictures, (cTuiracierbilder,) 
above the general course of history. 

16. Who has tried to introduce the grouping method f 

Stiehl, (now privy-counselor,) has proposed, in a little book, " Instruction in 
the history of our country in the elementary schools," {Der vaterldndische 
Geschichimnterricht in wisern Elementarschuhn,) Coblenz, 1842, to promote in- 
struction in the history of the fatherland by a vivid transfer into the midst of 
national life, by historical facts grouped around a national calendar, with the 
exclusion of systematic chronology, and by presenting the coherent material 
well- wrought together in one mould ; besides, making the whole more fruitful 
by commmunicating important patriotic documents and like best patriotic songg. 

In a different way. Dr. Haupt, in the preface to his "History of the World, on 
Pestalozzi'g principles," (Weltgeschichie nach Festalozzi's grundsatzen, etc.,) 
HQdburghausen, 1841, recommends a grouping of the entire history after certain 
categories of the material, (home, society, state, nation, rehgion, science, and 
art.) in each of which the suitable material of all time is comparatively placed 
beside each other. 

17. What are the most recent tendencies concerning historical instruction f 

On the one hand, it is recommended to interweave classical sentences and 
good historical poems, in order to vivify historical instruction by dramatizing it, 
and so impress better the chief epochs, especially of natural history, by story 
and song. On the other hand, for the sake of concentration, various combinationa 



CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 485 

with geography, natural knowledge and religion, and even with the hymn 
hook, are recommended. An endeavor has also been made, to simplify the ma- 
terial for common wants, by cutting off the less fertile portions, particularly of 
national history, and to compensate for this by entering deeper into some chief 
characters and events. This has fixed attention more and more on historical 
cTmracterbilder, which are now in various works, at the teacher's command, to be 
used chiefly for a good Christian and national education. Particularly, it is 
endeavored to view more closely the civilization of nations, especially of one's 
own ; to give more Christian and dogmatic matter ; to introduce the youth ratlier 
more into the historical development of the social orders and classes than into 
the history of the world ; and to find one's own account in the execution. For 
each of these tendencies, respectable voices have been heard. 

18. What is to be thought of these tendencies f 

It is a pedagogical mistake to do too many things at once. The teacher of 
history must abstain fi-om teaching at the same time catechism and natural 
sciences ; they do not belong to liistory. Further, the hymn book can not be 
considered as a suitable guide for instruction in national history, to say nothing 
of the obscure origin of many songs in it. To interweave many sayings of a 
celebrated man, even to make it sometimes the centre of the narration, may be 
quite suitable. It may be very effective to celebrate a great hero or event of 
history, besides elevating and improving description by a good song also. But, 
more important is it to simplify, and to enter deeply into the chief points, and 
therewith to nourish earnestly a patriotic and religious sense, — whicli may, no 
doubt, be much aided by good national " characierbilder." A prominent regard 
for the orders of society is not only difficult but even not without danger. To 
save better care than hitherto of the progress of civilization, and to avoid 
subjective tendencies, particularly in modern history, will be approved by all 
sensible persons. 

19. Hotvfar is geography to be cared for in teaching history? 

Up to the present time, all attempts to combine, after a definite plan, all his 
torical with all geographical instruction, have nearly foiled. The common way 
in which it is done now, is either to premise to the history of the various nations 
and states the related geographical matter, or occasionally to insert it in frag- 
ments. In this way, of course, geography has not its degree ; because for many 
geographical objects there are no points of reference and connection. Further, 
it would be necessary to explain at every time only the corresponding geogra- 
phy of that period, so that a comparison with the geography of the present 
time would be needed, — a necessity that has always great difiBcultiea for young 
people. The plan by which certain geographical sections alternate with histori- 
cal ones, (the former analj^tically, the latter chronologically,) no one would 
consider as a praiseworthy combination. In whatever way it is done, it is 
indispensable to make the geographical field of history as clear as possible. 
Instruction in history can neither be tied to a specific plan of teaching geogra- 
phy, nor can it aim at an appropriate and complete finishing of the latter. The 
same is true vice versa. 

20. What is the value of historical poetry in teaching history ? 

So far as historical poetry keeps within the sanctuary of truth, its artistical 
glorification of characters and deeds is unquestionably of high value, and th* 
appropriate use of it can not be too much recommended. But, as soon as it 
leaves truth, and idealizes, poetically, the historical persons and their exploits, it 



486 CATECHISM ON METHODS OF TEACHING. 

is no longer of importance for instruction, even if the poems be of great poetical 
value. 

21. Why are the historical dates so vabiable ? 

It may be asserted, without hesitation, that, witliout fixing the dates, instruction 
and a ready knowledge of history is impossible. As long as the pupil is not 
yet conscious of the distinction of time in its practical worth, the general outlines 
of the historical event may be sufBcient ; but, as soon as that consciousness is 
awake, the event and person must be connected with the date, in order that the 
former may be better remembered, better understood in its position of time, and 
better distinguished from related phenomena. The dates are the most simple 
monitors of memory, and can never be entirely omitted, though they ought to 
be limited for children, and sometimes to be made round numbers, for the sake 
of memory. They help to regulate the material in the easiest way, and join the 
natural development of events; nay, a sensible arrangement of them often aids 
the understanding of related events better than long expositions could do. 

22. What is the didactic value of good historical pictures, maps and tables ? 

In teaching, very much depends on making history intuitive and lively. It is, 
therefore, desirable to aid the oral address by appropriate means. Such are histori- 
cal pictures and tableaux, since they represent often the historical action more 
clearly in one moment tlian the most copious description by words. Of course, 
they must be true and of artistical worth. Historical maps aid best the percep- 
tion of the geographical extent of a historical transaction, and often afford the 
most natural representation of its results upon the position of nations and 
states to one another on the globe. Tables facilitate both a short review of the 
chief events in chronological and synchronistical order, and a firmer impression 
ou the memory, by bringing to view tlie rise, fusion, separation, and falling of 
nations, etc. Also they can best represent, in side columns, the different move- 
ments of development at the same time in state, churcn, science, and art. 

23. In what respects does private reading further historical knowledge .? 

Since it is impossible to treat in school every thing desirable for youth, it is 
very important that appropriate reading in private should assist to complete the 
historical knowledge. It is indispensable for a more detailed familiarity with 
the chief characters and events of the world or the country. Fortunately, the 
desire to read history is as natural as it is common among youth ; and, even to 
a more advanced age, there is no better occupation, in leisure time, than historical 
reading. 

24. What hooks treat upon the methods of teaching history ? 

a. Peter, "Historical Instruction in the Gymnasia," {Der GeschichtsuU' 
terricht auf Gymnasien,) Halle, 1 849. 

b. Loebell, " Outlines of a method for teaching History in the Gymnasia," 
{Grundzuge einer Methodik des Geschichtsunterrichts auf den Gymnasien,) Leij^zig, 
1841. This work suggests a careful partition of the material. 

c. Miguel, "Contributions to the study of Biography in the Gymnasia,'' 
(Beitrage zur Lehre vom Biographische unterricht auf Gymnasien,) Aurich, 1847. 

d. C. A. MuUer, "Historical Instruction in the Schools," (tfber den 
Geschichtsuntemcht auf Schulen,) Dresden, 1835. A very thorough treatise, 
recommending, among other things, the biographical method. __ 

e. Arnold, "On the Idea, Actuality, &c., of History," {Tiber die Idee, daa 
Wesen, etc., der Geschichte,) Koenigsberg, i. n., 1847. (See the history of the 
Tvorld.) 



DRAWING. 



BY DB. BRNST HBNTSCBEL. 



I. DEFINITIONS. 



" The cultivation of the focultles of representation and form, gives us a feeling 
for beauty, grace, form, and symmetry." — Harnisch. 

Drawing is a mode of representing solid forms by lines upon 
surfaces. 

A drawing, as a result of artistic labor, has either a purpose out- 
side of the art — such are mechanical drawings, plans, anatomical 
drawings, &c. — or it is executed for its own sake; as are landscapes, 
fruit pieces, &c. In the former case, their purpose is principally one 
of material usefulness ; in the second, they are executed with an en- 
deavor after a beautiful external form ; and are thus a representation 
of the ideal. But those of the first sort do not exclude the beautiful, 
for every object, without any exception, can be beautifully represented. 

Material forms are either natural or artificial ; and either geomet- 
rical, or irregular. 

Various species of drawing are practiced ; as, 

1. Linear drawing, which gives only an outline of the object ;f and 
shaded drawing, in which suifaces are shaded. 

2. Geometrical and perspective drawing. The first represents 
objects in their correct relative proportions as to magnitude ; the sec- 
ond, as they appear to the eye. The geometrical delineation of one 
side of a body is called an elevation ; that of its plan, a ground-plan. 

3. Free drawing and sketching ; either with or without the use 
of rule, compasses, &c. 

4. Copying, or drawing from another drawing; drawing from na- 
ture, or of real objects ; imaginative drawing, or drawing of things 
conceived of by one's self; of which the two former are of things as 
they are directly seen, and the latter are indirectly based upon the 
vision of real things. 

In all drawing, the eye, the hand, and the sense of beauty, are em- 
ployed ; as are also, in drawing from memory, the faculty of concep- 
tion, and in drawing from imagination, that faculty. 

• TranslUed from Diesterweg's '^Wegweiser." 

t Many persons include in linear drawing, drawing by the aid of ihe compasses and ruler. 



488 DRAWING. 

11. SCOPE, OBJECT, AND IMPORTANCE OF INSTRUCTION IN DRAWINQ. 

Instruction in drawing should include — 

1. Exercises in understanding 

a. Form, in itself, 

b. The beautiful in form. 

These constitute culture of the eye and of the sense of beauty. 

2. Exercises in representing 

a. What lies immediately before the student; as in copying and 
drawing from nature ; 

b. What has heretofore been before him ; as in drawing from mem- 
ory and from imagination. 

These constitute the education of the hand in the service of the 
eye ; and culture of the memory, the imagination, and the sense of 
beauty. 

From another point of view, we may distinguish as follows : — 

1. Exercises in drawing lines, angles, and geometrical figures, as a 
basis for all studies in drawing ; that is, elementary drawing, 

2. Exercises in representing objects of all kinds, or applied drawing. 
The chief advantage of drawing is the culture of the various powers 

which it calls into action. 

Training of the eye and hand. — The knowledge of what God has 
made, and of what man has made, depends in great part upon the 
apprehension of the forms of things. Form, therefore, is one of the 
most important phenomena of the material world. And who will 
deny that the knowledge of the creation is important? God, who 
has made such various works, and has given us the power of accom- 
plishing and being conscious of our own culture, must prefer not to 
have us go blind through the world. And to open a child's eyes, 
not only to the forms of nature, but to those of the world of art ; s.o 
that he can apprehend and remember not only the form of a plant or 
an animal, the course of a river or of a chain of mountains, but also 
the architecture of an edifice, the construction of a machine, or the 
plan of a city, must be admitted to be of very great importance. 

The training of eye and hand which drawing furnishes, is a means 
of acquiring this power. Not only do we become accui-ately ac- 
quainted with the form of what we draw, but the work of drawing 
sharpens our observation of the forms of what we do not draw. 
Thus, drawing affords a knowledge of the material world. 

In addition to this, we acquire the power of representing forms to 
others in a visible manner. This is a power of universal importance. 
A ^Q^ lines will often do more than a long description. 

Training of the eye and hand is also of great importancQ, not 



DRAWING. 489 

merely as a means of knowing wliat there is in the world, and of 
representing that knowledge, but also as a preparation for the duties 
of life. Thus it is of great use to many kinds of artizans to be able 
to draw a little, &c. 

Training of the conceptive faculty. — Without this culture, the 
knowledge and understanding of the forms of the visible world is not 
possible. Through its exercise, the pictures are represented to the 
mind, from which the imagination develops new forms. And without 
the exercise of the imagination, it is impossible to conceive of any 
progress into the limits of the supersensual, the abode of religion. 

Training of the sense of beauty. — This introduces us to that uni- 
versal pleasure, that enjoyment exclusively possessed by none, which 
is derived from the beautiful in nature and art. 

Every man, it is true, is to some degree fitted by nature to perceive 
and enjoy the beautiful, up to a certain point, but no further. He 
whose sense of beauty is not trained, loses infinitely. Take for in- 
stance the first example that occurs in actual life. A journeyman 
travels through a city full of beautiful architectural works. He goes 
stupidly in at one gate, and out at the other ; there is no such thing 
as beauty for him. The buildings which he passes by neither have 
any present interest for him, nor will they hereafter be remembered 
except as masses of stone, rising high in the air, hollow within, ac- 
commodated with doors and windows, alike in one place and another, 
and erected merely from the necessity of security against wind and 
weather, thieves and robbers. But suppose another and better edu- 
cated journeyman passing through the same city. How much delight 
will he receive through his cultivated artistic faculties ? He will lin- 
ger for hours, with the liveliest pleasure, before each building ; and 
will go forward, stored with wealth of new studies, and remembering 
all his life with delight those impressions of his journeying-years. 

The connection of culture in the beautiful with culture in morals is 
clear. In the recognition and the feeling, the loving and doing of 
the beautiful, coarseness and vulgarity, and tendencies toward debas- 
ing and sensual enjoyments, find a countervailing power. The vir- 
tues especially developed by the study of drawing are, persevering 
industry, love of unobtrusive right action, order, purity and decency.* 

A brief quotation from Goethe may conclude this introduction. 

* Frederic the Great used to recogniue his Boidiers long after they had left the army, by the 
pood order cf their houses. An instructor in drawing might do the like. A boy who had 
Attended school where, among other things, he had beon obliged to learn the greatest neatness 
in writing and drawing, brought about at his return home a most beneficial reform in the ex- 
ternal life of the whole family, by the vigor with which he opposed any deficiency in cleanli 
ness and order. 



490 DRAWING. 

The importance of instruction in drawing as a part of education, will best ap- 
pear when we consider that by means of that acquirement we gain an increase of 
beautiful and noble pleasures derived from the external world. The whole realm 
of forms and colors opens to him ; he acquires a new mental organ ; he receives 
the most delightful ideas, and learns to recognize, to respect, to love and to enjoy, 
the beauties of nature. 

Upon considering all that has been said of the intrinsic importance 
of instruction in drawing, and of its various practical advantages, we 
shall find that it includes no small number of qualities directly valua- 
ble as educational influences, both formal and material ; and that it 
is accordingly an important aid in solving the problem of the common 
schools ; which is, the bringing of the child to what is beautiful, true, 
and good.* 

* The hundreds who frequent a public museum can not sit comfortably in a hquor shop ; 
and will soon come to feel that there is a direct conirast between men raised by art to the 
level of demigods, and men degraded by brandy to the level of beasts. — ^'■England in 1835,'' 
by Fr. von Raumer. 

The more recent reforms m education make this dep irtment of culture a universal benefit, 
no longer to be enjoyed exclusively by the painter, the sculptor, and the architect. And to 
ttiis end, the primary school must provide that the eyes of its pupils are trained, their hands 
practiced in certainly and accuracy of delineation, and their feeling for beauty awakened and 
cultivated. In this manner an important service will be done to the farmer, the laborer, the 
mechanic, and the manufacturing operative. The farmer who can draw, will be far less the 
victim of his own ignorance, or of designing enemies, in setting out lands and woods, in divi- 
ding meadow, arable land, gardens, in adjusting his tools, and in all matters relating to build- 
ing, hedging, and irrigation. One who is undertaking to build, whether from pleasure or 
necessity, can, if his scliool instruction has enabled him, judge correctly by the preparatory 
drawings of the ta.ste, strength, arrangement, and convenience of the proposed edifice, esti- 
mate materials and cost, and then save himself and his architect much vexation and now and 
then a lawsuit. A wealthy patron of the arts will thus be enabled to understand better the 
works of artists, to estimate thus more correctly, and to value more highly and remunerate 
more fairly the artists themselves. Indeed, there is scarcely any person who would not de- 
rive benefit from this most desirable study. It has also a moral value which is far from con- 
temptible. Young persons who have learned to draw, will in that way occupy many vacant 
hours which would otherwise be passed in idleness, with all its evil consequences. The re- 
sult of this can not but be beneficial in families ; and when the young have themselves grown 
up, and are themselves fathers and mothers, the benefit will be still greater. But mdividuals 
as well as families, will reap similar advantages from it, through its efficiency in averting 
many harmful and prejudicial influences. Any occupation of a regular nature, and fitted to 
employ hours of recreation, is a rich source of pure and quiet pleasures, elevating both to the 
mind and the feelings. — Wirtli, in the '^Universal Swiss School Gazelle," vol. ii. p. 8, 9. 

But setting aside all questions of mere practical usefulness, and therefore passing by the in- 
quiry in what and how many human avocations drawing is useful and necessary — aside from 
all this, we know of scarcely any practice of more comprehensive influence than drawing. 
Instruction in it, in connection with that in the intuitional knowledge of geometrical forms, 
has an influence in stimulating and conjoining those two great elements of life, receptivity 
and productivity, unequaled by any other, so far as regards material existence. It makes 
demands upon eye and hand, upon mind and heart; and alTords a methodical culture in ac- 
curacy, neatness, and in the sense of symmetry and of beauty. It offers the most elBcient ot 
all aids to instruction in natural history, natural science, geography, writing, and mathemat 
ics.— Dr. Zehlicke, in '■'Mecklenburg School Gazelle," vol. i. p. 3. 

Drawing is not only a suitable occupation for the young, but sharpens the vision, trains 
the hand for writing and other delicate employments, gives practice in observation and quick 
ness of apprehension, affords a store of instructions and ideas, develops the faculty of order 
and the sense of beauty, gives activity and cheerfulness, and is absolutely indispensable in 
many occupations.— Zerrenner's '^Principles of Education and Inslruction." Edition oJ 
I83a 



DRAWING. 491 

To aid in the actual solution of this problem is the purpose of 
drawing. If without it, it can not be completely and in all respects 
solved, the importance and indeed the necessity of it as a study are 
beyond doubt. It is always the duty of the common schools to give 
instruction in drawing; and only unavoidable deference to still 
higher necessities can exceptionally justify a temporary omission of it. 

The actual state of affairs, it is true, argues against this opinion. 
In far the majority of the common schools, no instruction at all is given 
in it. Calligraphy is practiced with zeal and a great expenditure 
of time ; a multitude of names of Asiatic rivers and Brazilian apes 
are committed to memory ; and the most abstract grammatical rela- 
tions are taught. But no care is taken to make the children femiliar 
with the sphere of phenomena lying immediately around them, and 
to fit them better for real life, by means of drawing. The unpractical 
nature of the German mind is one reason for this ; another is, that the 
Pestalozzian principle of a harmonious development of the funda- 
mental human faculties, has, during the last ten years, not only not 
gained in currency, but actually lost. Whether this last fact is the 
result of our inability, light-mindedness and want of judgment, or of 
the truth that every idea has its periods of brightness and obscurity, 
is a question to be settled by others. To return to the practical view 
of the subject. The French are in this matter, as in others, more 
judicious than we. There the law enforces the teaching of drawing 
in all the elementary schools.* 

HI. APPLICATION OF THE GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF INSTRUCTION TO DRAWING. 

A. Outline of the Proper Exercises for the Common School. 

1. Both elementary drawing (of lines, angles, geometrical figures,) 
and applied drawing must be practiced ; the former as a very neces- 
sary substructure for the latter, on the principle of beginning with the 
elements ; and the latter, because the foi-ms of the world around us, 

* The Royal Government of Magdeburg, in a circular order to the common and burgher 
schools on the subject of drawing, of April 6, 1847, reproves the neglect of it ; which Is the 
more surprising, inasmuch as there is scarcely to be found one school inspector who is not 
convinced " that drawing, which is in itself an occupation appropriate for the young, and 
of an innocent character, sharpens the vision, quickens the hand, trains the attention and the 
apprelienslon, conducts to intuitions and to ideas, develops the faculty and the sense of 
beauty, prevents tedium and idleness, and is of great pedagogical importance ; and who does 
not know how many occupations require a knowledge of drawing; and that, especially at the 
present day, wlien such rapid progress is made in all industrial pursuits, drawing is a study 
at53lutely indis] ensable " And the circular adds, '-It is very true that at present, many 
Ihirgsare studied in our burgher and common schools, and in many ways. But it is also 
true that all such studies, whenever they exceed what is necessary, should not be permitted ; 
and that therefore the school department has long been endeavoring to fix the proper limits to 
the field of study ; and that for a study so important as drawing, the necessary time ?nust be 
found. 



492 DRAWING 

without comprehending and representing which neither the formal 
nor the material object of drawing will be reached, are almost always 
not plane figures, but solid forms. 

The educating power possessed by elementary drawing, is not 
doubted even by its opponents. Nor does it deserve the common ac- 
cusation of dryness and wearisorneness, if properly commenced and 
continued. Experience shows that boys find an especial pleasure in 
dividing an angle into three, four, or more equal or proportional parts, 
in constructing an equilateral triangle, an octagon, a circle, &c. 
Many maintain that the fundamental forms should be practiced only 
in real drawing— in drawing actual objects. But this would destroy 
a portion of the expected advantages ; for besides the fundamental 
forms, all the collateral work which drawing from nature requires, 
must be repeated exactly as often as the fundamental form ; usually 
without any benefit. An equilateral triangle must be drawn cor- 
rectly, not merely once — for chance may bring that about — but twenty 
times ; which would show that chance has nothing to do with it, and 
that certainty of execution has been obtained. But who would need 
to design twenty times over the whole decoration of which the trian- 
gle may form a part ? 

2. In applied drawing, exercises in drawing by hand and out- 
line sketching, perspective and geometrical drawing, copying and 
inventive drawing, should, none of them, be wholly omitted. But as 
a general rule, the drawings in all these departments should be linear 
only, and not filled out by means of any shadowing. 

The practice of free off-hand drawing is evidently indicated as nec- 
essary, by both the formal and material purposes of instruction in 
drawing. This formal purpose requires as great a variety of stimuli 
as possible. These can not be conceived of without free off-hand 
drawing. In respect to the material objects of drawing, the pupil 
who restricts himself to outline sketching, must give up the idea of 
representing a very large number of forms which could well be pro- 
duced in free off-hand drawing. But there should not be such an 
omission. Instruction should be in accordance with nature; and this 
requires that the perceptions of the pupil should be directed to the 
whole world of natui'e and art. 

With reference to the other kinds of practice, may be mentioned — 

a. Reasons for practicing outline drawing. 

The great accuracy which this requires, affords a peculiarly good 
practice of hand and eye, and has, in particular, great value as a train- 
ing to observant, judicious, and provident activity. Any one who 
has accustomed himself to go about with circular and ruler, square 



DRAWING. 493 

and pencil, is mucb readier at apprehending than those who are igno- 
rant of the use of them. Many objects in practical life, also, can not 
be drawn except in outline. 

b. Reasons for practicing copying. 

1. The requirements of actual life demand it. 

2. A harmonious culture of the artistic faculties is impossible with- 
out practice in copying; and this both with reference to the technics 
of art, and to the cultivation of the sense of beauty. Such a culture 
doubtless requii-es in particular that the pupil should accurately com- 
prehend a large number of given forms. But the mathematical part 
of drawing implies much less apprehension than representation, and 
even this only according to fixed and very simple relations. Drawing 
from nature again affbids, more especially, training in apprehension ; 
and the subjects selected may be as difficult as is desired ; but still, 
only a relatively very small field of forms can thus be introduced into 
the common school for actual apprehension and representation. In 
drawing most animals, for instance, there would be very much disci- 
pline for both eye and hand ; yet animals could hardly be made 
models for drawing in the common schools. The taste, again, would 
be very much cultivated by the study of classic ai'chitectural orna- 
ments ; but it is out of the question to go to Cologne or Strasburg to 
draw those there, not to mention crossing the Alps. Thus the neces- 
sity of copying becomes clearly obvious. 

c. Reasons for drawing from nature ; geometrical {elevations) and 
perspective. 

1. The pupil improves in power of apprehending the various forms 
around him,* and in remembering them. 

2. It enables the pupil to understand perspective drawings imme- 
diately upon seeing them. 

3. There are frequent occasions in actual life when it is important 
and even necessary. 

4. As an immediate, free and independent mode of reproducing 
what the eyes perceive, it has an entirely peculiar attraction for the 
pupil. 

6. Acquaintance with the laws of perspective introduces the pupil 
to an entirely new world of ideas and thoughts ; and it is certain that 
such an occurrence can not be without influence upon his general in- 
tellectual development. 

These reasons in favor of perspective drawing, founded both upon 
the formal and the material purpose of instruction in drawing, are not 

* "It is astonishing how many deceptions remain undiscovered without the practice o< 
this art, and how invariably we see otherwise ttian as we suppose." — Olto. 



494 DRAWING. 

without weight. There can be no complete instruction in drawing 
without that in perspective. If perspective has hitherto found little 
or no favor in our common schools, the reason is, partly the undenia- 
ble difficulty of the subject itself, and partly the lack of time, room 
and apparatus. It can therefore perhaps never be a universal study. 
But in all schools where space and time are not too limited, at least 
the more advanced pupils should make a beginning in perspective. 
Some details on this point will be given below. 
d. Reasons for practicing inventive drawing. 

1. The power of producing the beautiful already exists in the 
child, and shows itself in innumerable ways. We must develop it if 
we desire to avoid a one-sided culture. 

2. It is certain that, as Otto says, this independent creation of beau- 
tiful pictures elevates the pupil to a consciousness of the rays of that 
divine creative power which appears in the human imagination. 

3. Practical life often calls for ability to arrange or construct in a 
tasteful manner. Many mechanics could not get on without the fac- 
ulty of inventing beautiful forms.* 

6. Reasons for and against draiving ivith shaded surfaces, 
aa. For. 

1. It aftbrds a knowledge of light and shade as found in the world 
without ; that is to say, of one distinct aspect of the phenomena »f 
objects. 

2. It relieves the pupil from his dissatisfaction, upon comparing hia 
unshaded sketches with the common shaded pictures, and discover 
ing his own to be comparatively incomplete. 

bb. Against. 

1. It is of but little value, in comparison with a knowledge of out 
line drawing, in regard to the apprehension of objects in nature and 
art. Light and shade change continually, while outlines are more 
permanent. 

• Although I use the word " inventive " in an entirely general manner, the term of course 
naturally applies to the invention of symmetrical figures from modifications of the funda- 
mental mathematical forms. I am not of the opinion of those who think that such exercises 
should be rejected on account of the lack of reality in such figures. 

Tho!;e who doubt whetlier such figures can be called beautiful at all, seem to doubt also 
whether the habit is to be approved which has prevailed for so many centuries, of using such 
forms on walls, doors, windows, fireplaces, hangings, cupboards, tables, furniture, carpets, 
tablecloths, book covers, embroidery patterns, and in a hundred other such ways. But the 
fact that these objects do certainly exist, and that other similar ones continue to be designed 
and used, so that the figures in question do in fact have a relation to real objects, is a suffic 
ient reason for not omitting them from instruction in drawing. 

Otto states the necessity of the three principal departmentsof drawing, viz., copying, draw 
ing from nature, and inventive drawing, as follows: "Drawing from visible bodies train, 
especially the eye ; drawing forms kept before the mind by the imagination and produced by 
it, and still more the work of imagining them, trains the imagination; and the copying ol 
pictures already executed, the sense of beauty." 



DRAWING. 



49; 



2. For such drawing as is required in practical life it has some- 
times no value, and at other times a very subordinate one. 

3. If not very well prepared for and very well managed, it fre- 
quently produces a bad effect, and thus obstructs the cultivation of 
the taste instead of promoting it ; and even renders the minds of 
immature scholars obscure and stupefied. 

4. It wastes time needed for other most indispensable exercises.* 
These reasons on both sides indicate that this department should 

be studied, but that its practice should be confined within somewhat 
close limits. Only remarkably talented and industrious pupils should 
be permitted to pursue it, and then not unless they have prepared 
the way by a thorough practice of outline drawing. Those collec- 
tions of copies for drawing are quite unpedagogical, in which every 
thing is shaded, even from the very beginning. Unfortunately there 
are so many such, that more proper points are too often entirely 
omitted. 

Having thus discussed the necessity of studying in the common 
schools the various departments of elementary and applied drawing, 
free off-hand drawing, outline sketching, copying, drawing from na- 
ture and inventive drawing, the next inqury is, 

B. The relations of these different departments of practice to each other. 

1. Elementary drawing is the basis for all the others, and is there- 
fore the first step. 

2. Perspective drawing from nature is the most difficult, and there^ 
fore should constitute the last or fourth stage. 

Want of .elementary practice has an astonishing power of interfer- 
ing with the results in perspective drawing. This latter, moreover, 
requires a certain maturity of the whole man ; and it is also less im- 
portant for ordinary use than the other kinds. And in the small 
extent to which it can be learned at the common schools, it can have 
but a small influence, relatively, in developing the sense of beauty. 
All these considerations indicate that perspective should be the last 
department taught. 

3. Outline drawing is not to be taken up with the elementary 

* The shading is certainly a main reason why, in so large a share of the common schools, 
notwithstanding all the time spent in drawing lessons, the people do not learn to draw. As 
soon as Johnny has practiced lines and outlines for a few months, he is given a large fruit- 
piece, a group of animals, a landscape, or a head, to shade. The outline is very quickly exe- 
cuted, for the circle is used ; and " the circle is on purpose for drawing outline.^ ;" and on he 
goes, with hisshadinjT. For twenty or forty lessons, he sits scratching vacantly, humming 
and thoughtless, until the wonderful work is completed. Then it is glazed and framed, is 
handed all round at the examination, stared at and bepraised by people who do not under- 
stand it, and our young hero, who can not draw a right angle, nor sketch a window, and who 
has no idea of beauty of form, receives a prize. At home, they hang up the picture with 
great ceremony, "in everlasting remembrance," in the best parlor. Poor Johnny ! 



496 DRAWING. 

course, but should come later, immediately before drawing in per- 
spective from nature, except so far as it belongs to geometry, and is 
employed in the construction of purely geometrical figures. It thus 
should constitute the third step, or last but one. 

On the suljject of practicing outline drawing in the elementary 
course, opinions differ. Ramsauer says that it would be an unjusti- 
fiable waste of time to work with ruler and circle before the eye and 
hand gain firmness. Hippius directs a whole series of elemental y 
exercises with the ruler, before beginning free off-hand drawing. 
Most teachers of drawing are of the opposite opinion to this. We 
incline toward the side which experience seems to have indicated, 
namely, that of the majority. 

4. Between elementary drawing and outline sketching is the place 
for free off-hand drawing, applied to actual objects ; which thus occu- 
pies the second place. 

5. Having thus determined upon four principal departments, the 
question will come up. Where does copying come in ; and elevations; 
and inventive drawing? We answer: 

a. Inventive drawing has already been practiced in the elementary 
stage. But the pupil must always be made master of the materials 
with which he works ; he must have seen specimens of inventions of 
the sort which he is expected to make. 

The child can not develop the idea of the beautiful from himself. 
Some of the Pestalozzians have erred to an unspeakable extent on 
this point. Never was a more unpedagogical problem proposed than 
that of J. Schmid. for beginners — "Make a beautiful combination of 
isolated points !" 

But where the imagination has been set in action by examining 
models, the pupils may be permitted to make some experiments in 
invention, for which reason we have admitted it as above. For it is 
certainly according to nature, to begin to develop the different phases 
of the artistic faculty in children, from even the very point where 
they begin to spring out. We must, it is true, have regard to the 
old motto, " JVon multa sed multum ;'''' in order that we may not, in 
avoiding one-sidedness, fall into the opposite error of studying too 
many things at once. 

h. Drawing from nature, so far as it consists in making simple 
.elevations, may be practiced during the second stage. For those just 
beginning it is too difficult, principally on account of the usually nec- 
essary reduction to a diminished scale. 

c. Copying may be commenced in a very easy way, as soon as a 
good beginning is laid in elementary drawing. 



DRAWING. 497 

All tlie prooeding details may be grouped as follows, in a 

General Scheme for Instruction in Drawing. 

First Grade, or Elementary Drawing ; and in connection with it, 
Inventive Drawing and Copying. 

Second Grade, Ap])lication of free off-hand drawing; including 
Copying, Geometrical Drawing from nature, and Inventive Drawing. 

Third Grade, or Outline Sketching; with a continuation of Copy- 
ing and Inventive Drawing. 

Fourth Grade, Perspective Drawing, exclusively. 

Tliis plan is in accordance with nature, as relates both to the pupil 
and to the subject. 

C. Directions for farther practice in the different departments. 

GENERALLY. 

The same principles which have been laid down relative to the 
succession and connection of the various departments of practice, are 
applicable also to the choice and selection of the materials for each 
sej^arate one. 

It is therefore necessary, 

First, To draw various forms. For if the instruction given is to 
communicate any formal culture, the child must, as has been said, 
comprehend its entire scope. It is an error to choose artificial forms 
only, or natural forms only. The teacher utterly misapprehends the 
character of the common school, who causes aichitecture, or tools, or 
flowers, or landscapes, either of them exclusively, to be drawn. The 
pupil does not see either of them exclusively ; nor is it, the business 
of the common school to educate especial I3' for any one occupation 
such as that of the carpenter, the cabinet-maker, potter, &c. 

Secondly, It is the universal rule to begin with what is easy, and 
to proceed, from that only with great caution. Now the easiest part 
of drawing is that with right lines ; not perhaps where the fewest 
lines are used, but where the relations of lines and angles are easy of 
comprehension. Of the regular forms,, for instance, an easy one is 
the regular octagon; and a difficult one, the regular pentagon. Ir- 
regular forms are easy, if they are derived fi'om regular ones ; as, fur 
instance, the semi-oircle; but difficult otherwise, as in the case of the 
eye, nose, ear, hand, &c. ; all animals; most flowers and fruits; all 
trees ; most tools, &c. Thus many of the designs most frequently 
given to children as elementary exercises, are entirely improper for the 
jiurpose ; and great care must be taken not to be led astray by such 
titles as " The Little Flower Draftsman^'' " Elementary Exercises in 
]jandscu,pe Drawing^'' ''''Studies 0/ Animals for I/idustrioas Boys^'' (Jic. 



498 DRAWING. 

The principal disadvantages of selecting too difficult subjects to bo 
copied are, waste of time, discouragement of the pupils, or else vanity 
and overestimate of their powers. And in schools where there are 
several classes, a teacher who proceeds in a thorough manner, will 
tind liimself cast into the shade by this faulty mode of proceeding by 
his colleagues. 

"But the children will not work well at easy exercises." Unfortu- 
nately this is too true. They want to make a great picture, of the 
market-place at Leipzig, and that, if possible, during the great Easter 
fair; the shipwreck of the Medusa; St. Genevieve; the battle of 
Katzbach, tfec. But it will not do to permit this. The more difficult 
it is to bring the children, by a course of instruction unbroken, and 
yet interesting, ajipropriate, attractive and not wearisome, to the point 
where they will find their pleasure in solving with certainty the pro- 
blems laid before them, instead of in their extent, so much the more 
zealously should we labor to accomplish it. 

But even the most careful arrangement of the order of problems 
will not avail, unless, 

Thirdly^ The pupils receive the necessary explanations and assist- 
ance. Here failure is frequent. Perhaps the pupil is set to copy a 
flower. He begins at once, at one of the extreme points ; and goes 
on to draw leaves, anthers, petals, pistils, <t:c., one after another, as 
zealously as possible, down to the minutest parts and details. After 
long and cart-ful labor, his flower is finished ; an excellent flower, but 
unfortunately (]uite difl^erent from the original. There are schools 
where drawing is practiced in this manner, year after year. But how 
ejisily would the pupil have accomplished his work in the case pro- 
posed, if he had at first been taught how to see the blossom correctly. 
The fundamental form would have been laid out perhaps by three or 
four points ; and all the details would then have fallen into their 
places of themselves. 

It must be plainly said, that in most drawing schools, instruction 
in intuition and apprehension is unjustifiably neglected. Many teach- 
ers have scarcely any idea of the basis of all drawing, of which th& 
judicious Brauer, in his " Theory of Free Apprehension,^'' has ob- 
served, " Before any figure is drawn, it is necessary that it should be 
seen or understood in all its parts and relations." Here is a principal 
reason why so little progress is commonly made in this study. 

But supposing that all the conditions hitherto laid down have been 
complied with ; then, lastly and 

Fourthly, It must be strictly required of the pupil, that he draw 
■well ; thai is, correctly and with entire neatness. No botching or 



DRAWING. 499 

working over, indistinctness or fancifuhiess, smearing or rubbing, 
trifling or talking, will accomplish this. The whole of the pupil's 
power must be earnestly and perseveringly exerted u])on his work. 
It is only b}'^ this means that drawing will become the important 
educational instrumentality that it may be made. 

Working in company is much to be recommended. The task may 
be given out, the mode of performing it stated, and then followed at 
the same time, from point to point, by all. This trains to intelligent, 
orderly and regular labor. It is unnecessary to argue that all possi- 
ble means should also be tried to enlist the interest of the children in 
the work which they are to do, and to conciliate their love of it. 



1. .Elementary Dravjing. 

a. Should elementary drawing follow geometry, or geometry draw- 
ing ? Neither, and for this reason ; that the order of study of the 
two subjects must often be very different. Geometry considers the 
triangle before the square ; while in drawing, many squares may be 
considered before many triangles are. And much that pertains to 
geometry is of no importance to drawing. For it results from the 
nature of the case, that the portion of geometry which is of use in 
drawing, is studied during intuitional instruction, and therefore long 
before drawing is commenced. Such points are, ability to recognize 
a right angle, a square, a circle, &c. I find no use in connecting 
geometry with drawing. But it is a different thing to repeat while 
drawing the .fundamental forms, that part of geometry which relates 
to them. This will aid in thorough comprehension of the case, and 
is to be recommended, 

h. There are elementary exercises which consist in drawing right 
and curved lines by the children together by beat, large free lines, if 
possible with a movement of the whole arm. These exercises are 
of great importance ; they should be practiced at the same time with 
such others as require the closest care, and where therefore the pupil 
is working more by himself and in detail.* 

c. Exercises in estimating the lengths of such straight lines as may 
be found at hand, by natural or artificial means, may, from time to 

* The opposition of many of Peter Sctimid's pupils to tliis class of exercises, has for a long 
time been much less violent. Ramsauer says. " Brief and definite orders, and prompt and 
uninterrupted work according to them, regulated by keeping time, will accomplish an infin- 
ite amount of jrood in acquiring any kindof manual skill where practice is the thing required. 
While on this point, a word should be said of the applied art of writing. Markwordt, of Ber- 
lin, practices much in large free strokes. A great part of the so-called ' American method in 
writing,' al.so consists of large free movements in unison ; and the results are sf) evidently 
good, that the system is daily coming more into use." 



500 DRAWING. 

time, be introduced between the drawing exercises proper, but should 
not be carried too far. 

d. In arrano'ing the subjects for practice, tlie objective and subjec 
tive order should be, as far as possible, united. According to tht 
purely scientific or objective arrangement of the fundamental forms, 
the equilateral triangle should come before the rectangle ; but in 
drawing the order should be difierent, because the latter is much the 
easiest to draw. The same is true of the pentagon and octagon. A 
course of instruction arranged with reference to subjective principles 
may, it is true, at first seem disorderly rather than orderly ; but a 
more acute vision will discern the " red thread '' which leads through 
the whole. 

2. Copying. 

a. Subjects beautiful in themselves should be selected for copying. 
For example, a finely formed vase should be selected rather than a 
common kettle. The faculties used in drawing will be as well trained 
by one as by the other, while the former is of greater value in devel- 
oping the sense of beauty. 

h. For beauty of execution, only the very best designs are suffic- 
iently good ; those only moderately well done can not go. 

c. For the purpose of working in classes together, the use of de- 
signs large enough to be seen by the whole class — those made to be 
hung up — is much to be recommended. An industrious teacher will 
even, if necessary, prepare such himself. 

It is still more important that the teacher be able to design on the 
blackboard. Hippius says, " The children can see the drawing con- 
structed ; can watch the beginning and the end of it ; and can obtain 
more thorough ideas as to apprehension of objects. They should 
themselves proceed to imitate these drawings, which should be suited 
to their capacities, on a smaller scale. The manipulation of the work 
should be such as to serve as a model to the children ; the teacher 
locating in the proper places the necessary initial points, in a careful, 
I had almost said a learner-like manner. When the figure on the 
blackboard is complete, it should be analyzed, and understood both 
as a whole, and in the relations of itself to its parts and of the parts 
among themselves. After this mode of intuitional study has been 
sufficiently practiced, the teacher should again go through with the 
process of drawing the figure, as it were in his thoughts, by dictating 
the work point by point. At the same time he should pass round 
among the benches, directing and assisting wherever necessary, re- 
proving or praising, and endeavoring to keep all the pupils in cheer 
ful activity. 



DRAWING. 50^ 

d. Even when the children draw each by himself, after small sep- 
arate originals, they should often be made to draw their copies on 
a larger or smaller scale, for the sake of gaining in freedom of 
conception. 

e. With an eye to the ultimate and principal purpose of instruction 
in drawing, it will be better for the pupils to sketch many objects 
with few strokes, than to occupy the same time over a few drawings, 
more elaborated. But these latter should not be entirely excluded. 
The best mode is to produce, from time to time, some larger work, 
and to draw between or along with these many sketches not so much 
finished in detail as full of meaning. 

/. For copying, more reference should be had to the sex of the chil- 
dren than was the case in elementary drawing. Thus, architectural 
subjects should be chosen for the boys, and beautiful vases for the 
girls ; weapons for the former, flowers for the latter, &c. One-sided- 
ness in selection should, however, be avoided. The girls should be 
made to comprehend the beautiful forms of the higher departments 
of architecture, and the boys the characteristics of leaves and fruit. 
In short, to repeat the principle once more, it is the whole world of 
forms which the school should prepare its pupils to comprehend. 

3. Inventive Drawing. 

a. This may be practiced both upon spontaneous conceptions and 
upon real things. In either case, the pupil may be required either to 
complete a design, to decorate it, to vary it, or wholly to invent it. 
For instance, 

1. Ideal representations. Completion — to draw the whole of some 
figure from half or a third of it. Decoration — to ornament a rectan- 
gle with lines all converging to its center. Variation — to change a 
regular octagon, into an irregular one. Entire invention — to draw a 
group of equilateral triangles and decorate them at pleasure. 

2. Real objects. Completion — to draw a window, having one 
quarter of it given. Decoration — to ornament a design for a table 
top. Variation — to change a quadrangular window into one with 
curved lines at the top. Invention — to design a beautiful trellised 
gate. 

The usual order of these exercises should be, first, free representa- 
tions of real objects, together with drawing mathematical figures. 
Completing a design is usually easier than decorating it, and that 
again than varying it; while absolute invention is the most difficult 
of all. The lessons should be arranged in accordance with these 
principles. 

b. Occasionally an entire class, or at least a section of it, should 



502 DRAWING. 

work together at invention. If, for instance, the problem is to decorate 
a square, the children may step up to the board, one at a time, and work 
upon a square drawn upon it. This will furnish many opportunities 
for remarks, and the inventive faculties of each pupil will benefit all. 

c. Sometimes the pupils should merely sketch their conceptions 
without completing them ; and the teacher may then criticise the 
sketches. In this way, several designs may be sketched at one lesson. 
The slates may be sometimes exchanged about in such a manner, 
that each pupil can see the designs of all the others. 

d. Invented designs which are to be finished in detail, should be 
approved in outline, to prevent expending hours of the pupil's labor 
on a design which may, perhaps, at last be rejected. 

4. Drawing from Nature. 

Jf'irst, as to geometrical drawing from nature. 

a. Either actual objects, such as are about the children, should be 
drawn, such as doors, gates, trellises, floors, windows, cupboards, 
stoves, monuments, &c., or there should be used, as Otto very judic- 
iously recommends, an apparatus on purpose, by means of which all 
sorts of figures can be set up together, on a ledge on the blackboard. 
The drawing may either be of the natural size or on a reduced scale. 
In the latter case, great care must be taken that the children shall 
justly estimate the relative sizes of the reduced objects. 

b. Just at this point it is of especial importance that, in the begin- 
ning especially, much work should be done in common. Before the 
children put pencil to paper, they must fix upon all the relative di- 
mensions, not by means of a mere cursory view of the object, but of 
a careful survey of it. It should be a point of honor to come as near 
as possible to correctness. When all the estimates have been made, 
the teacher may name the dimensions before the class ; and then they 
may proceed to draw. 

c. This is a very appropriate place for tasks to be performed at 
home. " Draw the front of your father's house ; the windows of the 
sitting-room, &c. I will take occasion to compare the drawings with 
the originals." And so on. 

About this time a beginning may be made with perspective draw- 
ing, perhaps somewhat as follows : — 

a. Practice the children in seeing real objects in a perspective 
manner. This is not very ditficult, and has the advantage of showing 
the pupil what perspective is, even if he does not become able to draw 
on its principles. 

b. Perspective may be taught by copying. Perspective designs 
may be given to be copied, arranged in a progressive manner, and 



DRAWING. 5Q3 

instruction on the laws of perspective may be given at tte same time. 
This is the method of Soldan, Warmholz, and others ; and is not 
liable to any weighty objections. 

c. Exercises both on copying and seeing should be practiced. 

d. Drawing from real objects should be practiced, either by section 
of the class at once, or singly. 

Drawing is of course a more useful exercise than mere seeing; and 
drawing from real bodies is better than from another drawing. And 
it is better to display the article to be drawn conveniently upon a 
table for one, two, three, or at most four scholars, than to elevate it 
somewhere for the whole class to draw from. 

The circumstances must govern in each particular case. I would 
however have some exercises in seeing, in every school where draw- 
ing is practiced at all. I add a few hints for such as have proceeded 
far enough to draw real bodies. 

a. To complete the shading of what is drawn should be uncondi- 
tionally forbidden. The common school has no time for this, if the 
children are to be made at all acquainted with perspective. 

b. The subjects should not be too difficult ; such, for instance, as 
plaster heads, landscapes, groups of animals. The principal thing is 
to teach the children to comprehend and represent with ease the sim 
plest perspective appearances. 

c. The children should not be troubled with difficult theories of 
perspective, nor, on the other hand, should they be restricted to the 
brief rule, "Draw what you see." Some knowledge of the laws 
of perspective is indispensable for the moderately and less capable 
pupils, as well as an acquaintance with some simple means of aiding 
in seeing in a perspective manner. 

d. These laws of perspective, however, should not be given, but 
discovered. It is wrong, for instance, to tell a pupil that a circular 
surface or thin body can be seen as a straight line, and then to hold 
it up to him that he may be convinced of it. 

e. The most practical possible application should be made of the 
principles which lie w.ithin the scope of the common school. These 
should be joined to the exercises on cubes and prisms, for instance, a 
drawing of a chimney, a chest of drawers, an open door, &c. ; and .the 
best scholars may afterwards draw a house, a bridge, a gateway, &c. 

5. Outline Sketching. 

a. The common school is not the place for designing pillars, capi- 
tols, and similar architectural constructions. They belong to the 
industrial school. The business of the common school is limited to 
this : 1. Geometrical construction of lines, angles, and figures ; 2. 



604 DRAWING. 

The application of these to the drawing of simple sketches and ground- 
plans. 

h. Great skill may be attained in this kind of drawing, so far as it 
can be carried with the aid of the simple instruments which the chil- 
dren can be trusted to use. Without using these, the practice would 
do more harm than good. 

c. The use of the circle and ruler must be industriously practiced, 
in order to the acquisition of skill in it. Many simple problems 
should be given out for using them ; as, for instance, to draw four 
angles one after another, each half as large as the preceding ; to mag- 
nify to many times its own size, <fec. 

d. As to selecting subjects for ground-plans and elevations, the fol- 
lowing suggestions may, perhaps, be of service : — 

1. Select for drawing, a plan of the school garden ; the church- 
yard ; of some building, as the church ; an elevation of the school 
house, (fee. 

2. Let the children copy some plans, ground-plans, elevations, <fec., 
in order to become acquainted with the usual mode of doing such 
work. 

3. Let each pupil himself make out some such plans, ground-plans 
or elevations of his father's house or garden, &c. 

D. Course of Study. 

This is rather to indicate one mode of arranging the work, than to 
be followed to the letter. 

1. Common schools of three classes. — Drawing should be practiced 
only in the middle and higher classes ; not in the lower. It is safe 
to calculate that children of at least three different grades are alwaj's 
to be found in each class ; so that divisions must be made. More 
than two such divisions are usually too many, as experience indi- 
cates. Thus each class will have a two year's course, and each pupil 
will, at least in that part of the study where the whole section works 
together, go twice through one of the halves of the course. 

a. Middle class. — Here it will be well to permit the capacity and 
industry and progress of each pupil to determine which half of the 
course he shall go twice through with. The course should be as 
follows : — 

First half— 

1. Elementary drawing. Lines, angles, the easiest divisions of 
lines and angles, the rectangle, isosceles triangle, square, rhombus, 
rhomboid, equilateral triangle. Straight and curved lines together, 
by beat. 



DRAWING. 505 

2. Copying. The simplest forms with straight lines, partly repre- 
sentations of real things, partly variations of fundamental forms. 

3. Invention. The easiest exercises in completing and varying 
forms ; usually to be executed in common. 

4. Beginning of estimating dimensions ; usually of those where one 
of the dimensions to be estimated may serve as a measure of the 
others. 

5. Examination of the model drawings. 
Second half — 

1. Elementary drawing. Continuation of the division of lines and 
angles. The regular hexagon. The regular octagon. Different 
curves on straight lines, and half and quarter circles. Irregular poly- 
gons ; waving, serpentine and spiral lines ; the circle, ellipse and 
oval. Curved strokes together, by beat. 

2. Copying. In the first half year of designs with straight lines 
only ; in the second, of those with curved and crooked lines. The 
straight lines should always be in simple combinations; the curved 
ones in connection with straight ones ; and easy flowers and fruit 
given only to the most capable of the children. 

3. Invention. Tasks somewhat more difficult, but no designs of 
real objects yet to be permitted. 

4. Drawing from nature. Very easy elevations; and only to be 
practiced as a secondary exercise. 

5. Study of model drawings. 

6. Estimating dimensions; partly with and partly without the use 
of the legal measures of size and distance. 

h. Upper class. — Here the scheme must be a little more carefully 
arranged. I suppose the children to draw in perspective only during 
the last year of school, and then during both lessons ; so that their 
copying and inventive drawing must be done at home. The children 
of thirteen years of age, again, should form one section, (Section 1,) 
and those of eleven and twelve another, (Section 2.) Then the in- 
struction for the year may be arranged as follows : — 

1. From Easter to St. John's day. For Section 2, off-hand draw- 
ing; exercises in copying and invention. Section 1, perspective; first 
beginning. 

2. From St. John's day to Michselmas. Section 2, off-hand draw- 
ing ; copying, invention, elevations. Section 1, perspective, continued. 

3. From Michaelmas to Christmas. Section 2, outline sketching ; 
geometrical constructions ; but for the girls instead, off-hand drawing. 
Section 1, perspective, further continued. 

4 From Christmas to Easter. Section 2, outline sketching; ground- 



506 DRAWING. 

plans, and in ofF-hand drawing ; copying, invention, elevations. Sec- 
tion 1, perspective, concluded. 

Observations on the foregoing plan. 

1. In the first quarter, Section 2 is so employed that the teacher 
may busy himself mostly with Section 1, where his aid will be quite 
indispensable. And in Section 2, also, the exercises, in copying es- 
pecially, can be adjusted to the capacities of each individual scholar. 

2. In the second quarter. Section 2 will have advanced far enough 
to work by themselves for say half an hour together. That time may 
thus be spent in introducing Section 2 to the department of drawing 
elevations. The pleasant summer days will be found quite suitable 
for drawing in the open air; and the pupils, while unoccupied during 
vacation, may execute many drawings. Toward the end of this quar- 
ter, Section 1 may be set at drawing easy buildings in perspective, in 
the open air. 

3. The third quarter will find Section 2 busily employed with circle 
and ruler. The pupils of twelve years old, who are going over the 
ground a second time, will be able to assist those of eleven, so that 
the teacher will get time to do some open air work in pleasant 
autumn days with Section 1. But if he does not think it safe to 
leave Section 2 alone, he may take them out also and let them sketch 
elevations. 

4. When winter comes round again. Section 1 will be employed 
again in the house, in learning something of drawing bodies bounded 
by lines not straight. Section 2 will take up ofF-hand drawing again, 
in the departments of copying and invention ; and some ground-plans 
may also be drawn. 

5. The exercises in copying and invention should continue what 
was begun in the middle class, but not too rapidly. 

For copying, pictures of flowers, fruit, ornaments and characteristic 
animal forms may be gradually introduced. -The inventive drawing 
may be in part of imagined forms, in part from real objects. No 
teacher who pursues his subject with a really vivid interest, can fail 
to find abundance of materials for lessons and models. 

2. Common schools of two classes. 

a. Lower class. If the pupil remains five years in this class, he 
should draw during the last two. Thus we shall have pupils of eight 
and nine years of age,, in one section ; so that each will go twice over 
the year's course. The course should include all the first half of 
what was prescribed for the middle class of a school of three classes. 

b. Upper class. Here there are many diflSculties. I shall sup- 



DRAWING. gQ>j 

pose two sections to be formed ; one of the pupils of ten and eleven, 
and the other of those of twelve and thirteen, so that each section 
shall go twice through the course. The lower section should dra\y 
what was directed for the upper division of the middle class in a 
school of three classes. The first division may alternately draw in 
perspective one hour, and in the next partly make outline sketches 
and partly work at copying and inventing. There are many disad- 
vantages in this arrangement, but I have not been able to make a 
better one which was not too intricate ; and our pedagogical literature 
affords very little aid on this subject. 

3. Common schools of one class. 

Nothing can here be done in perspective. The pupils should draw, 
from their tenth year upwards, in two sections. The course of study 
should be that for the middle class of the school of three classes ; 
except that the children should learn something of outline sketching 
during the last half year of their schooling. Some of the better 
scholars may perhaps be permitted to copy some of the exercises laid 
out for the middle class. 

E. Miscellaneous Observations. 

1. Beware lest the instruction in drawing educate the children in 
falsehood. Where every drawing which is shown at an examination 
is more than half done by the teacher, or by his assistants, such a 
result is certain to follow.* 

2. The purely technical exercises of off-hand drawing should chiefly 
be done on the slate; but copying, elevations, finished inventive 
drawings, &c., on paper. It is necessary to be economical, but then 
pains should also be taken to enable the children to enjoy repeated 
examinations of what they have drawn by care and industry. It is 
always unpleasant to children to see a piece of work which is care- 
fully finished, thrown away at last. 

3. Avoid all luxury, especially in poor neighborhoods, in pencils, 
paper, &c. The children should undeistand the necessary truth that 
man must always learn to accomplish the greatest possible results 
with the simplest means. 

4. It is not judicious unsparingly to cross out every ill done work 
from the pupils drawing book, for this may frequently destroy m a mo- 
ment the work of many laborious hours, besides disgracing the book, 
as the children say. Only evident idleness should undergo so severe 
a punishment. 

" Act honestly ! Let your examination be a proof, not of what your powers as an artist 
are, but of what you can do, as a teacher, through the efforts of your pupils. Honor truth ; 
and she will honor thee in turn." — Hippius 



508 DRAWING. 

5. The strictest care should be taken to make the children sit cor- 
rectly while drawing; for carelessness in this particular will very 
easily lead to crookedness in weakly children. It is a great evil for 
the pupil even to turn constantly towards the right hand to look at 
the design to be copied. A conscientious teacher will use every 
means of avoiding such habits. 

6. The pupils must be protected from too bright sunshine, by cur- 
tains or some equivalent means. 

1. All conversation should be strictly forbidden during the drawing 
lesson. It is astonishing to what an extent the looking ofi" from the 
work which is inseparable from whispering, interferes with and de- 
feats the comprehension of the design and success in reproducing it. 

8. The frequent use of India rubber is decidedly to be prevented. 
This is, in many schools, practiced to a miserable extent; no drawing 
being finished without having been rubbed out in every part, nobody 
knows how many times. Instruct the pupil in a truly elementary 
manner, teach him to apprehend, make him work with attention and 
care, and away with the India rubber 1 

9. Whatever work is given to the children to be done at home, 
must invariably be shown and examined when completed. 

10. If possible, let the most skillful pupils be employed as assist- 
ants in instruction. 



SPECIAL IXSTRUCTIOX IN' TRUSSIA. 509 

IXSTRUCTIOX IN DRAWING IN PUBLIC SCHOOLS. 

Drawing, since the establishment of the Academy of the Fine Arts in Berlin 
in 1690, and of the Real School by Ilccker in 174", has formed an important 
branch of instruction, not only in professional and technical schools, but in insti- 
tutions of general culture, of the highest and lowest grade. In the classical and 
scientific schools, in the trade schools and further improvement schools, in the 
primary and secondary schools, we are sure to find its place in the programme of 
studies. In 1831, it was made a matter of special regulation by the Minister of 
Public Instruction, which was revised by the same authority in 1863, with sug- 
gestions as to the aims and methods of this branch of instruction. 

The following Regulations for instruction in Drawing in the Gymnasiums and 
Trade Schools of I'mssia, was issued by the INIinistcr of Public Instruction 
(Von Muehkr), October 2, 1863 : 

Instruction in drawing is an important element in the education of youth, and 
forms an essential i)art of the j)rogramnie of superior schools. 

Experience has demonstrated that tlie actual state and results of instruction in 
this branch, as well as the development of scientific teaching, and tlie condition 
of art and industry, require a revision of tlie regulations of March 14, 1831. 
With the advice of tlio royal academies of fine arts of Berlin, Dusseldorf, and 
Ktenigsberg, and of the provincial academic councils, and of several teachers 
of tried experience, tlie following regulations have been prescribed : 

I. PROGRAMME FOR GYMNASIUM.?. 

1. Instruction in drawing in gymnasiums is given in four classes or consecu- 
tive courses, the trade school constituting the fifth class. 

Independent of tliis division of courses, pujiils, as far as local convenience 
permits, shall bo classed in special divisions, according to their capacities and 
progress. 

Lower Class : 

2. Elements of the theory of drawing; lines of difflirent directions, and dim.'^n- 
sions in various combinations. Drawing of straight and curved lines without 
model. 

In the first course, tliat steadiness of hand is not to be expected, which is 
necessary for drawing lines and circles with the perfection attained with the use 
of instruments. 

Second Class: 

3. First elements of perspective, witli the occasional use of the ruler and com- 
pass if necessary. The pupils may draw after models of wood ; the ajiparent 
changes of aspect to which bodies are subject must be explained ; also the efi'ect 
of liglit on the surface of bodies, and the shading of solids, beginning with those 
with plane surfaces. The models are to be turned successively to the right or 
left and i)laced at various distances from the pupil. 

Moreover, in this class fi'ee-hand drawing after engravings is entered upon, ad- 
vancing to parts of the face and to entire heads, giving at first only contours and 
slight indications of shade. 

Third Class : 

4. Advanced exercises in free-hand drawing after models and plaster casts, or- 
namf.>nts, leaves, parts of the human body ; copying engravings is to be continued, 
and landscape drawing to be begun. 

Progressive development of perspective ; drawing from models in various posi- 
tions and at various distances. Theory of the vanishing-point. 

Introduction to the use of the ruler and compass in the principles of architec- 
tural design. 

Fomih Class : 

5. Free-hand drawing after engravings, arabesques, animals, heads, and com- 
plete figures ; more diflicult landscapes. 

Drawing from busts, full heads, use of stump and drawing with two crayons. 
Perspective continued to drawing apartments and grou])S of difficult objects not 
presenting too great difficulties. 



510 



SPECIAL INSTRUCTION IN PRUSSIA. 



U. PROGRAMME FOR TRADE SCHOOLS. 



G. Tlic four preceding classes, comprising the course of a gymnasium, arc also 
the first four classes in the trade schools, Avith the difference, however, that in the 
latter, free-liand drawing is taught to pupils of the superior classes, together with 
linear drawing (ruler and compass), hegiuuiug in the third class. 'J he method 
of projections, on a ])lane or iu elevation, is theoretically and practically exposed, 
and extended much farther than at the gymnasiums, while a greater number of 
hours also are devoted to instruction in drawing in the suijerior classes. Beyond 
this, the trade schools add a special fifth class to the course pursued at the gym- 
nasium. 

Special or Fifth Class : 

7. Continuation of free-hand exercises ; problems from perspective and the 
theory of shadows, with scientific explanations ; exercises in linear drawing ac- 
cording to the special profession of each pupil ; elements of topography. 

8. As a close to the instruction in drawing, polytechnic schools can impose 
proofs of capacity upon pupils leaving the institute : 

1. Linear Drawing. — A geometrical or prospective projection, including con- 
struction of shadows, simple objects in architecture, mtchatiics, or other branches. 
This proof implies the supposition that pupils of the superior course of a poly- 
t.chnic school are able to trace back any graphic representation to its elementary 
geometrical construction ; that they are familiar with descriptive geometry, with 
the theory of shadows and of perspective, ami that ihcy are sufficiently practiced 
in designing architecture and nuichines, -without having completely exhausted the 
theoretical part of the branches. 

2. Free-hand Drawing. — In this branch the individual disposit'on of each pupil 
should be considered ; their inequality in this respect docs not admit of a ftumal 
prog-ramme as definite as that for linear drawing. The more advimced ])upils 
should be able to draw with the free-hand, arabcs<iues, landscapes, animals, heads 
and entire from engravings, and various objects, including shaded heads from 
models in plaster, and prove their comjirehcnsion of the principles involved. 

3. Drawing of plans and to])ograpliical drawing must also, to a moderate de- 
gree, become familiar to the pupils 

To this progranmie arc appended the following suggestions : 

1. Instruction in drawing should proceed gradually from the most easy to the 
most dilhcult studies, avoiding that pedantic monotony which weakens the atten- 
tion of pupils, and passing lightly over isolated details, accustoming the student 
at an early period to consider the whole. There is- no want of excellent models 
for the first courses in instruction ; but it is recommended that the teacher should 
sometimes make his own models that the pupils may see tnc method of construct- 
ing them. In the beginning the entire class should be engaged in the same 
problems in order to better sustain their attention and to elevate and stimulate 
their zeal. 

2. The programme of instruction in drawing in the superior schools, particu- 
larly in gymnasiums, embraces also, besjdes the training of the eye and the hand, 
the development of the feeling for the beautiful. Pupils will learn by progressive 
exercises, to take in at a glance the characteristic forms of objects, and to properly 
appreciate tlie lieauties of natural scenery and the master-pieces of plastic art. 

3. Free-hand drawing is the most important exercise at the gymnasium, and 
the course should correspond with the indications of the programme, without be- 
coming purely mechanical ; but should, on the contrary, be pursued with the 
object of elevating the student to spontaneous and intelligent reflection. Noth- 
ing should be done by the beginner without previous theoretical and practical ex- 
planations. The education of the mind must accompany that of the hand ; the 
latter can produce only what the eye sees, and the eye sees incorrectly without 
the aid of the understanding. The copying hand is not only an instrument in 
the service of the eye, but the auxiliary of a reasoning mind. 



SPECIAL INSTRUCTION IN PRUSSIA. 



511 



To attain this object, it is particularly important that the instructions should 
not be limited, as is often done, to the mere copying of engravings, a system from 
which science and method are almost always excluded. Drawing from engrav- 
ings alone is injurious to the eye, because the object to be reproduced is always 
too near ; and it will happen that pupils, after following a cotu'se in drawing 
through several years, will not be able to draw correctly even a chair or any other 
simple body. 

4. Experience shows that most pupils leave the gymnasium to clioosc a jjro- 
fession after the thinl or fourth class, for which reason the conipicte drawing 
course for a gymiu^isium has been so organized that the pupil can acijuire, iicfore 
he leaves, besides some skill in free-hand and linear drawing, the thiory uf making 
plans and elevations as well as the elements of perspective ; in short, they are suffi- 
ciently familiarized with the principles of design to pursue the course by them- 
selves, if their vocation requires. 

In gymnasiums the use of tiie ruler and compass in architectural design is re- 
served for the higher classes. 

The education of the sesthct'c sense, aimed at in all the otiier literary studies 
of the gymnasium, is also assisted by the study of models from the anticpie, and 
pupils in the higher classes should be made familiar not only with the classic 
antiquities, but also with some of the master-works in sculpture and architecture 

5 The polytechnic schools, by the terms of their organic regulations and to 
respond to their object, should initiate their pupils into a thorough knowledge of 
nature, science and art, by giving due importance to the instruction in drawing. 
By it, pupils should become accustomed to observation, in order that, by pene- 
trating mathematical forms, they may be able to find and recognize them in all 
tlie natural combinations into which they enter, and to determine their peculiar 
and external characteristics. The better they understand the laws of nature, the 
more the sjnse of the beautiful will develop itself within them. 

G. If, for the object of polytechnic schools, linear design occupies an important 
f lace in the programme, it is not with the desire that free-hand drawing be neg 
lected ; on the contrary, it should be cultivated in an earnest and methodical 
manner, alwaj's connected with instruction in perspective. It is recommended to 
add it to the plan of the fifth class, and if thought proper, to the preceding 
coui'ses, in connection with lessons in natural science, and to introduce as a model 
the skeleton of the huimm l>ody. 

Before commencing linear drawing, properly so termed, the pupil should have 
acquired skill in free-hand drawing. This branch may begin in tlie third class, 
with the theory of projections, since perspective has been a subject in preceding 
classes, and may be continued with the theory of shadows. 

7. Instruction in drawing should not generally pass the limits assigned in the 
programme of the school ; its object is not to form artists, but to exercise pupils 
in the elementary principles of art, in the understanding of form, in surencss of 
eye, in the habit of estimating proportions, and in steadiness and skill of hand. 
Copying landscape studies is often dispensed with in higher classes, as the time 
and labor spent are out of proportion to the usefulness of the practice, and be- 
cause both teacher and pupil are easily deceived by productions of this sort. 

8. In the selection of studies, regard should be had to the needs of instruction, 
rather than to method and assthetics. 

9. Besides a collection of studies and models, it is indispensable that superior 
schools sliould be provided with a well-lighted hall specially adapted to this in- 



512 SPECIAL iNSTni;cTi:N in mussiA. 

struction, where suituhlc objects for observation, the copies of eliaractcristlc and 
celebrated works of art, busts, ornaments, fragments of arcliitecture, etc., will be 
the best decorations. The daily contemi)lation of these models will contribute 
essentially to the development of the faculties concerned in drawing. 

Schmidt's jiethod. 

In 183G, Mr. Peter Schmidt received a pension from the government in 
acknowledgement of the services rendered the schools and the country by a new 
method of drawing introduced by him into the Royal Ileal School, and taught 
by him to the teachers of the trade school and of the city normal school. 

In this method, pupils begin by drawing from geometrical forms, made in wood 
or plaster, of a square jiillar (seven and a half inches high and one inch and a 
half in its square section), a niche, and a low cylinder. The square ]jillar sep- 
arates in joints, affording a cube and parallelopipeds of different heights. The 
hemisphere, which caps the niche, may be removed, leaving the concave surface 
of its cylindrical part. Each of these models afford a graduated scries of lessons 
on the drawing of solids, and of curved lines, and the drawing of lines of different 
degrees of strength, and of shadows. This is accompanied with some of the 
more simple rules of shadow and shade. INIore difficult exercises follow from 
natural objects, and from works of art, or mechanism, according to the attain- 
ment of the pupil and the direction of liis taste. An account of this method 
Atill be found in Prof Bache's description of the Royal Real School of Berlin. 

Dt;ni3IS' JIETHOD. 

The method proposed by M. Alexander Dubuis, of giving the human head, 
or bust, which presents only very general masses, or features ; after this, another 
bust, with some additional indications of the head ; then a third, in which the 
details are more numerous and more decided ; and lastly, a fourth, in which 
the details are according to nature. These four busts, each placed in different 
positions, jiresenting four successive stages of the same figure, is in use in some 
public, as well as private drawing schools. 

DRAWING IN COMMON SCHOOLS. 

Although drawing receives some attention in the common schools, and the 
teachers are .systematically trained for this purpose, its scope in Prussia is far 
more restricted than in schools of the same class in Bavaria and "Wurtemberg. 
By the " licrjulativ" of 1854, drawing in the Teachers' Seminary "must not go 
beyond introductory lessons in the linear representation of simple objects," and 
in the ordinary one class elementary school, it must not be taught beyond the 
simplest free-hand drawing from flat examples. Practically, it is not carried, as 
in the best Bavarian schools, into elaborate penmanship, tasteful as well as accu- 
rate map-drawing, ornamental designing, and the culture of the sense of the 
beautiful generally. Nor is it applied in the common schools, as in Wurtem- 
berg, to the industrial details of the future occupations of the pupils. Instruc- 
tion of this kind is reserved for the adult, or supplementary schools, and to the 
trade and art schools. 

In the absence of any official directions as to the system of teaching drawing in 
in this class of schools, we introduce a very valuable paper on the subject, prepared 
by Dr. Ilentsehel for Diesterweg's " Wer/weisa;" a manual which h:us special ref- 
erence to the organization, instruction, and discipline of common schools : 



INSTRUCTION IN SINGING. 

BY BR. E. HENTSCHEL. 



I. DEFINITIONS. 

By singing we understand tlie production of the beautiful, as ac- 
complished by the human voice, by means of the union of musical 
tones with poetical words ; the union of music and poetry. 

The elements of speech are sounds ; of nmsic, tones. From sounds 
are formed syllables, words, sentences, periods ; from tones, 1, in suc- 
cession, melodies, which consist of phrases and periods ; and 2, in 
combination, harmonies or chords. Every succession of tones, and of 
combinations of tones, whether of single tones or those consisting 
of several tones together, (chords,) may be considered in three 
respects. 

1. Height or lowness, or melodically. This department is called 
Melody. 

2. Length or shortness, or rhythmically. This department is called 
Rhythm. 

3. Loudness or softness, or dynamically. This department is called 
Dynamics. 

The relation of tones to each other with respect to their simulta- 
neous sound, is the harmonic relation ; and the study of them is 
called Harmony. 

The distinctions between the various kinds of singing, such as tho 
church, solo, choral, <fec., are understood by every one. Either solo 
or choir singing may be in unison or in harmony. A mixed choir is 
one in which there are women's or boys' voices as well as men's. 

Singing, as a development of the beautiful, is an expression or rep- 
resentation of the feelings. The beautiful is within the singer or sub- 
ject, as the occasion of his feelings ; and it appears also as the object 
of feelings, through the medium of poetry and music. 

Several of the faculties are exerted in singing. The singer is con- 
cerned, first, with words. These he must learn (unless in the case 
where he composes them himself, which is not considered here), re- 
member and reproduce. In learning and understanding the words, 
their logical and poetical natures are to be considered ; and use is 
made of the understanding, the memory, the imagination, the fancy, 
33 



514 SINGING. 

and the sense of beauty. And in reproducing these words, besides 
the above faculties, the voice is employed. 

Secondly, the singer is concerned with musical tones. And these 
also he must learn, (except in the case, not here considered, where he 
himself composes them), remember and reproduce. In learning these 
tones, he must, firstly, consider them with exclusive reference to their 
melodic, rhythmical, dynamic, and harmonic character, and secondly 
with reference to their inner or aesthetic character, through which they 
exemplify the beautiful. The former of these two is accomplished by 
the musical faculties; the latter, by the fancy and the sense of 
beauty. 

The musical faculties include the musical memory, and the powers 
of apprehending and of reproducing sounds — usually termed the ear ; 
and also the rhythmical faculty, or faculty of time ; as well as that 
which appreciates the degree of loudness of sounds. The power of 
apprehending sounds, if developed to the point of intuition of sounds, 
presupposes a systematic knowledge of sounds, which requires the ex- 
ercise of the numbering and reckoning faculties, as well as of the 
memory. In order to the comprehension of tones from the written 
marks, or notes, which indicate them, is required, besides the musical 
faculties, a system of notation ; which is an affair of the understand- 
ing and the memory. And to produce the tones thus indicated, the 
voice is necessary. 

Singing represents feeling; sometimes a feeling which indicates a 
condition which is not in any proper sense that of the singer, and can 
perhaps never be so. This is the case for instance, almost always in 
oratorio, in opera, in ballads and romances, and in singing war-songs, 
hunting-songs, sea-songs, and many others. But the singing is in- 
tended to give pleasure ; artistic pleasure ; and of this there are differ- 
ent kinds and degrees ; the highest being that where the reflective 
faculties are quiescent, and we are transferred so wholly into a foreign 
condition of feeling, that we are wholly carried out of ourselves ; and 
every feeling that speaks in the music, whether of grief or joy, becomes 
entirely our own. This is most easily the case with children, who 
are always more poetical than adults. Jean Paul says, " Singing im- 
parts to children something of the enjoyment of heaven ; for they 
have not yet lost any of their rights to it." 

Men also find in singing an inexhaustible fountain of the noblest 
pleasure,* which no one is forbidden to enjoy. The delights of this 
art are in nowise confined to the saloons of the rich and great ; its 
pleasures and beauties will abide in the most lowly room, under the 

* "The most joyous of joys, music." — Klopetoek. 



SINGING. 515 

humblest roof, if the occupants only know how to introduce them 
there. 

Singing also produces an artistic transfer of the consciousness, not 
as it were into a foreign condition of life, but into an excitement of a 
sort at first strange, but which becomes natural through the influence 
of the singing. Thus a cheerful song enlivens the sad ; a spirited one 
refreshes the weary ; and a devotional one gathers together the 
thoughts, all distracted b}'^ the incessant impulses of outward 
occupations, and elevates them to God. In such cases as these, 
there obviously takes place not only a mere transitory pleasure, 
but often a profound and permanent influence upon the whole inner 
man.* 

In other circumstances, again, no stimulus, no excitement of the 
sensibilities is necessary ; the heart itself is " full of a thousand feel- 
ings," and they overflow in song. A victorious army sings a Te 
Deum ; the mournful choir laments the fallen ; a rich harvest blessing 
opens the lips in joyful hymns; friends departing to distant lands 
mournfully sing a departing song; a Christian congregation joyously 
shouts its inspiriting hosanna to the Lord ; an anguished and stricken 

* A remarkable instance of this nature is related in Schubert's " History of the Soul," of 
the preacher Kiihze of Berlin, who was freed, by listening to a devotional song, from an ag- 
onizing fear of an apparently necessary operation upon his eye ; a result which also had such 
a favorable influence upon the eye, that the operation was found unnecessary. 

" And I can testify," says Luther, " which also experience demonstrates, that after the holy 
■word of God, nothing is so good, and so highly to be praised and famed, as music ; and that 
for the reason that it Is a controller of all the movements of the human heart, and has such a 
power over it, that men are often governed and overcome by it. as by a master." 

Acoustics, so far as I know, does not yet account for the fact that we feel pleasure in hear- 
ing chords, and displeasure at discords. We know that musical tones are produced by regu- 
lar atmospheric vibrations, and that all vibrations of aliquot parts chord. If two or more 
tones sound together, either the atmospheric waves coincide and strengthen each other, or 
Ihey obstruct and destroy each other. These promotions or obstructions evidently commu- 
nicate themselves through the ear to the nervous system and the mind, in one case in a man- 
ner promoting their natural action, and therefore pleasant ; in the other, in a manner ob- 
structing it, and therefore unpleasant. The first of these two kinds of impressions we call a 
consonance or chord, the latter a dissonance or discord. By the use of both, the artist com- 
municates to us the joy or sorrow of his soul, in an immediate manner ; and by the solving 
of dissonances, which concludes a contest of tones, he communicates that excitement which 
always follows the conversion of grief into joy. 

But more than this, acoustics can not at present tell us. Music has not only scientific but 
psychological abysses : and no psychologist, even though likewise learned in art, has yet been 
able to penetrate them. But they exist, because the composer's elevation into pure feeling, 
into the feeling of the harmony of his own inner nature with the world of sound, exists. ''It 
is," says Prof Grassmann of Stettin, in his excellent treatise on ^^ Acoustics," (Stettin, 1837, p. 
25,) " the joyful or sorrowful emotion, which we feel within ourselves in a truly physical and 
real manner ; and again, it is the pulse of our own heart, the deepest longingof our breast, which 
takes full possession of nature, and is given back again to us through musical tones ; so that 
we may feel ourselves to be no longer individualized, but sunk again within the depths of the 
universal life. This most secret and profound emotion within us, by a wonderful sympathy, 
arouses even the least stimulable portions of our nature, and leads us into joy or grief, inso- 
much that we can hear, sounding back to us, the most secret tremors of the soul ; as if nature 
were calling to us, ' I understand thy profoundest desires; 1 partake of thy pleasure and thy 
Borrow.' " 



516 SINGING. 

heart cries out of the depths, in lowly penitence. Song is the lan- 
guage of the feelings ; and human nature is under a profound neces- 
sity to speak in this language. This is proved, not only by the story 
of " John the Soap-boiler,"* but by the history of all times and peo- 
ple, and especially by that of Christianity .f 

Singing has a great influence upon the hfe of the feelings. There 
is truly such a power as the Power of Song.J From the battle-songs 
of the ancient Germans, therefore, down to the patriotic songs of the 
present day ; from the hymns of the early Christian Church to the chorals 
of Luther, we find it employed for the highest and holiest purposes 
of our race : not. to refer to the analogous place which it filled among 
the nations of antiquity. It should especially be remembered that it 
operates, by awakening and stimulating the religious feelings, upon 
the will, and thus becomes a means of jjlevating the moral nature. 
Song is not only a promoter of the Beautiful, but through it of the 
Good.§ 

n. CHARACTER, PURPOSE, IMPORTANCE, AND NECESSITY OF INSTRUCTION IN SINGING. 

The character of instruction in singing, is derived from the charac- 
acter of the art itself. As this has for its object to produce the beau- 
tiful by means of a union of words and tones, the former has for its 
object, words, tones, and the union of them. It therefore includes 
exercises in 

1 . Understanding and pronouncing words, which comprehends hear- 
ing, reading, understanding ; or expression. 

2. Understanding and producing tones, comprehending melody, 
rhythm, dynamics, harmony ; or, vocal exercises. 

3. Conjoining tones and words, which is the union of the two 
former, in singing, proper; or, execution. 

The exercises in words are the same for singing and language. 

* I will qnote one similar case from my own experience. In each of the rooms of a school, 
the class was in the habit of beginning their daily work with a short morning song. The 
mingling of different tunes and modes sounded ill without; and as circumstances did not 
permit all the classes to be assembled together for a common morning devotional exercise, it 
was decided that only one class should sing at a time, each in its turn, a prayer being offered 
in each of the other rooms. But after a short time all the pupils petitioned for the restora- 
tion of the old custom, alleging that it was impossible for them to begin their work without 
singing. 

t " When Christianity had awakened the life of the feelings, and had supplied it with the 
loftiest ideals of existence, humanity could find only in music a sufficing mode of expression, 
and thus was gained a new Christian dirt."— "jEsthetics of Music," by Dr. Hand, 1837. 

t " By the influence which music exerts upon the hearts of all, it operates most powerfully 
upon the character." — Kochf.r^s "Music in the Church." 

§ Klopstock said to Rouget de Lisle, author of the '■'Marseilles Hymn," that he was a dan- 
gerous man ; for that he had killed more than fifty thousand Germans. What then might be 
said of Korner, Arndt, Schenkendorf, and others? Henry the Lion's motto was 

" Fight without song 
Can not be strong." 



SslNGING. 5JY 

They secure for the pupil a store of imaginations and thoughts ; and, 
as has been observed, they train the understanding, the memory, the 
fancy, and the aesthetic faculties. 

Exercises in tones belong properly to instruction in singing. They 
give a knowledge of the system of tones, as a separate department of 
creation, distinguished by an abundance of phenomena ; they develop 
the acoustic faculties, without whose cultivation no education in har- 
mony is possible; and as has been already observed, they train the 
understanding, the memory, the aesthetic faculties, and the voice. 

The exercises in singing, to repeat the observation, have a pecu- 
liar influence in enriching and elevating the emotional life, and indi- 
rectly upon the determination of the will toward what is good. For 
it may here be observed, that the sense of beauty, as it becomes 
developed in any one direction, becomes also, according to the laws 
of psychology, easier and ireer of development in other directions ; 
in this case, namely, in the direction of what is morally beautiful. 

Such are the formal and the substantial educational influences of 
singing. It is likewise in a high degree adapted to assist in lead- 
ing the child toward what is beautiful, good and true ; and to really 
accomplish this, is its purpose. 

It is for this purpose, also, that it is so important for the common 
schools, which are themselves intended to serve the cause of the 
beautiful, the good and the true. It may even be said to be abso- 
lutely indispensable as a department of common school duty, be- 
cause it promotes the objects of all the rest, in a manner not other- 
wise to be supplied.* 

The consideration of some of the special influences of singing as 
a duty, will only confirm their views of its value. It is an excellent 
means of sharpening the powers of observation, and of accustoming 
the pupil to acting promptly as directed by a word, a nod, a look. 
It thus counteracts both the indolent carelessness and indiflerence of 
some, and the precipitate hasty ways of others. In short, it is of great 
value in a gymnastic and disciplinary point of view. 

In most other studies, each single pupil stands by himself and acts 
for himself; or at least a community of action is not indispensable. 
But the study of singing puts a close and strict constraint upon all 
the class together, both in an external and internal sense.f 

**' Music, by its rhytlim and time, imbues tlie feelings with a regulated harmony. So 
highly did the Greeks value music, and in so many ways did they practice it, that the ex- 
pression a "musical man" was equivalent to ours of a "cultivated man." They therefore be- 
stowed the extremes! care upon this study, which was designed to unite in a beautiful habi- 
tude, readiness, openness, circumspection, and a most powerful mental discipline. " Peda- 
gogy as a St/stem," (Die Pddagogik als System,) hy Dr. Karl Rosenkranz. \9Ai. 

t"A choir is like an association of brothers. It opens the heart ; and in the streams df 
Bong they feel themselves to have but one soul and one heart." — Herder, 



518 SINGING. 

And lastly ; it may be observed, that good instruction in singing, 
by developing the pupil's faculties for rhythm, accent, and melody in 
speaking, renders very valuable assistance to the increasing efforts at 
present being made to elevate the style of reading above the repul- 
sive sing-song practiced in so many of the ancient schools. 

In concluding this statement of the importance and necessity of 
teaching singing in the common schools, I may not inappropriately 
quote the following authoritative opinions : 

Music is a means of culture so healthful for sense and soul, so powei-fully pro- 
motive of virtue and godliness, that we are bound to train our youth in it with con- 
scientiousness and dignity, zeal and perseverance. Nageli. 

Music may be considered a department of man's intellectual life, which he can 
not omit without restricting and weakening himself. It is one of those intellectual 
endowments by means of which he is to become conscious of, and joyful in tho 
world, himself, and his mental life. Marr. 

Even if the young are unable to attain to any important grade of artistic power, 
music deserves, on account of its educational vj^ue, as possessed of a peculiar 
power of influencing the mind and the heart, one of the highest places as a 
department of study. Natorp. 

III. application of the general principles of instruction in SINCrNG. 

A. Two Courses; iheir relation. 
The instruction in singing should be both formal (disciplinary) and 
material (efficient in the study itself.) These two purposes require : 

1. A series of elementary exercises; an elementary course. 

2. Practice in singing songs, &c. ; a singing course. 

The former is to give the pupil a knowledge of the necessary prin- 
ciples, and a mastery of them ; and the latter, to train him in expres- 
sion and feeling. We may lay down, therefore, with a view to secure 
these objects, the following principles : 

The elementary course should 

1. Continue during the whole period of school attendance. 

2. Include all the elementary tones. 

3. Proceed by an unbroken progression. 
And the singing course should 

1. Also last during the whole school period. 

2. Be related to the whole life of the child, both within and with- 
out the school. 

3. Include nothinof which is not significant and attractive. 

We shall hereafter recur to these principles and add to them. The 
present purpose is, to inquire what should be the relation of these 
two courses to each other within the school ? 

Should the elementary course precede the other ? In this case, the 
children would during a certain time have only preparatory exercises, 
without singing ; and for a long period together ; for the elementary 
course, to comply with the second and third principles just laid down 



SINGING. 519 

respecting it, could not be concluded for weeks and months ; which 
would violate the first principle relating to the singing course, and 
also the first relative to the elementary course. 

"We are thus naturally led to the idea of connecting both courses. 
The most suitable way of accomplishing this, seems to be, to apply 
in the singing course, the principles learned in the elementary course. 
This however, sometimes leads to a violation of the principles relating 
to both courses. It is evidently impossible, for instance, to find songs 
which shall correspond with all the steps of the long unbroken series 
of exercises, which shall be satisfactory in point of beauty, and shall 
bear upon all the various aspects of the child's life.* 

There is therefore no mode left, except to divide what can not be 
connected ; to conduct the singing course independently, parallel 
with the elementary course. We must be able to sing, at Christmas, 
" Glory to God in the Higlffest !" and on the king's birthday, " God 
save the King," without having to inquire whether in either of them 
there has not been used some progression or measure which had not 
been practiced. If some such freedom is not taken, we shall never 
see the fruits ripen which have been for thirty years looked for from 
the instruction in singing. 

But, it may be asked. How then shall the children be taught to 
sing ? I answer, in that manner which is adapted to the grade of 
development of their musical powers. Those who can only sing by 
ear, should sing so ; and he who can do more, should do more ; 
•whether he can only follow in a general manner the outline of what 
the notes set before him, or whether he can sing strictly and 
surely the notes as they stand. The singing course requires the ap- 
plication of all that was learned in the elementary course, but in se- 
lecting songs we should not depend entirely upon the former. The 
pupils should in good season receive the notes, with a brief general 
explanation. Then each of them should make the best he can of 
them. Such is both the ancient and modern practice of almost all 
instructors in singing in chorus, both for small and large classes. 

But, it may be further inquired, is not this too mechanical a prac' 
tice ? Does not such a course almost altogether prevent singing with 
a due feeling of the expression ? 

♦ At the Martin's Foundation in Erfurt, as appears by the Rhenish "Gazette," (Rheinische 
Blatter,) Vol VI., No. 3, p. 273, all the songs are learned by rote, without notes; that is to 
•ay, without any artistic and methodical gradation in their order. It is stated a little further- 
on (p. 286,) that the director of that institution often spends as much as a fortnight in search- 
ing and referring, and years in corresponding, to find a suitable song or melody, " because he 
subordinates the religious instruction entirely to that in singing;" and "rejects all songs 
which are not good in text and melody, in every particular." I would inquire how long hift 
researches and his correspondence would be, if he should have reference, in addition to any* 
thing like systematic progress? 



520 SINGING. 

To this I may reply : 

The problem which the child must solve in order to smg with 
proper expression, is usually stated thus : To be able to sing a choral 
or simple air from the notes without the aid of the teacher. But do 
you know what is required for this ? This problem, in the first place, 
is one in which many persons never learn to solve ; because it has 
not pleased God to endow them with the requisite power of appre- 
hending the tones as written.* Neither, again, do even remarkably 
endowed pupils often solve it before their eleventh or twelfth year, 
however early their instruction is begun, however carefully and skill- 
fully conducted. And only those children solve it at once, who 
possess very distinguished musical powers ; such who open the whole 
world of musical sounds to themselves as it were with one magical 
blow. 

And do not be misled if you hear of, or even think you have found, 
one or another school where the pupils have learned in a very short 
time to sing from notes or figures. Upon a close examination you 
will always find one or the other of the following cases true. 

Either the airs sung consist of short phrases scarcely including any 
notes except the first, third, fifth and eighth, and unsatisfactory and 
crippled, such as the following : 



^FiC 



^ i I I •' 9 J *Z 

1 9 *~ 

How bright - ly glows the morn - ing red, 

or, the pupils do nothing except to keep time; that is, ihey follow 
after a certain feeling of the succession of the tones, wtiie the teach- 
er, in the pride of his heart, thinks they are reading the notes ; or, 
Bome more capable children are acting as choristers to the rest, who 
sing after them unintelligently, by ear. 

But again, what does " mechanical" mean ? Where does it begin, 

♦ The result of my observations upon more than a thousand pupils of the most various 
ages and grades of development, is as follows : 

Memory of tones, is universal. 

A certain sense of tones, without any clear intuition of tones, is quite frequent. 

Comprehension of tone, and certainty in it, quite rare. 

And these conclusions are confirmed by the following extract from the " Rhenish Gaxettt," 
(Vol. X., No. 3,) of an article on instruction in singing, by Karow : "For singing, as well as 
for music generally, certain natural endowments are necessary, and one destitute of these, 
whatever his efforts, will not learn losing. We may compute that, of the singing classes in the 
schools, the following proportions will be found; of eighty children, ten will become very 
skillful and competent singers; twenty others, not distinguished, but still competent; five 
and twenty others, will sing well enough with the rest, but not in solo, as they will depend 
npon the rest ; twenty others will not trouble themselves with the notes, but will sing only by 
ear ; and the remaining five will be unable to sing, being defective in ear or voice, or both." 



SINGING. 621 

and where dots it end? A, sings an air wholly by ear, while B sings 
it by the notes, by his comprehension of the intervals of the octave. 
A, it may be said, learns mechanically. B, however, although in a 
higher grade, also learns mechanically. C, again, who feels the 
meaning of all the intervals, sings by note accurately without de- 
pending merely upon a knowledge of the scale, but does not under- 
stand what are the harmonies at the base of the melody : — he also sings 
mechanically. D, who sings also without depending upon mere 
knowledge of the scale, knows these harmonies, but not the laws of 
their connection : — he sings mechanically too. Lastly comes E ; 
whose attainments are equal to theirs and who knows the last item 
also, but has no idea of the mathematical basis of the system of 
musical tones ; — he is a mechanical singer too ! The truth is simply 
this ; — children will, and ought to, and must learn songs all the time ; 
joyous, powerful, living songs. And what can be the harm, if they 
only sing them by rote, if they can not sing by a knowledge of the 
scale ; or by that knowledge if they have it, if they have not attained 
to the intuition of the melodic interval ? Each one of our faculties is 
from God, the inferior as well as the higher. Therefore watch over 
each and make it useful in its own time, and accomplish some good 
thing with it! 

B. Contents and Management of the two Courses considered, further. 

I. Generally : and 

a. Notation. To about the end of the eighth year the children 
should study without making use of written notes. After that time, 
however, they should always be used. This delay in using them 
follows from the principles of proceeding from the simple to the 
complex, and from the known to the unknown. 

It is however necessary both for formal and substantial reasons, 
that written music be invariably taught. For however little the 
pupil may know of singing by note, his execution will always be 
freer in character then if he has learned exclusively by rote. But 
the very great majority of teachers of singing unite in testifying 
that under all circumstances, the use of the notes is an important 
aid in all practice and repetition. And if others maintain from 
their experience the opposite, and perhaps even say that the notes 
are a hindrance, they only prove that however interested they may 
be in singing, they do not know how to use the written notes. 

In teaching singing, we should distinguish two principal stages ; 
singing by ear, and singing by note. 

The instruction should be by means of actual vision. The repre- 
sentation of sounds by notes is the method most obvious to the eye, 



522 



SINGING. 



and therefore unconditionally to be preferred. Compare the following 
two modes of writing an air : 

'^^ (t 3 I ^ ^ 7 I 6 IT ^:i:[-^-5-4-3-2-)-l K— £ 




Those exceptionally able pupils who are now and then found in 
every school, can, according to all experience, sing with equal ease 
from notes and figures. But it is quite otherwise with all the rest. 
Whatever may be said to the contrary, they find the notes much 
the easiest; that is, unless they are drilled in a quantity of unmeaning 
rhythmic and melodic phrases, instead of real airs, that present a variety 
of rhythms and intervals. With most children, either the musical 
faculty gradually develops to the point where they can sing an air 
with an entire understanding of it, or that degree of attainment is 
altogether wanting. They are thus, until their fourteenth year, if 
not permanently, left to practice singing by note, in such a way that 
they guide themselves, in general, by the form and location of the 
notes, but where they bring out each single note rather by a sort of 
feeling of what ought to follow the preceding one, and by means of a 
knowledge of the scale, than by any real and clear knowledge of 
melody or the air itself. As long, therefore, as a pupil is not able of 
himself to execute each note of a written melody, exactly as it ought 
to sound, so long he has nothing to do with figures, and would get 
none except utterly indeterminate information from them. But the 
method by notes always gives him some assistance ; it represents to 
him the relations of the tones, and he has only to look at the notes, 
to find at least a leading sketch of the melody. And this material 
representation is of great use in retaining the melody. As the eye 
seizes upon the groups of notes, the memory connects the tones with 
them ; and it often needs but one glance at the notes to recall whole 
melodies which have been forgotten. But the figures afford no such 
assistance. One row of figures looks just like another ; and the pupil 
must go one by one through the whole series, and pick out each note, 
before he can tell, what the melody is. Therefore, no figures. 

The notes should be learned in the key of G, not in that of C, 
which is io scarcely any collection that most used. 

h. With respect to singing. 

Whatever is learned by children should be learned as thoroughly 



SINGING. 523 

as possible ; or if that has not been the case, should at once be made 
so. What is defective neither educates in form nor in substance ; 
and indeed in the former sense it is positively injurious. One third 
sung too flat brings after it twenty other flat thirds ; and passing 
over one pause endangers the time at every other pause ; &c. 

In every stage must be unconditionally required purity of intona- 
tion, correctness of rhythmic representation, observance of the dy- 
namic marks, clearness of enunciation. Other things must receive a 
proper relative share of attention. 

This perfection in what the children learn must especially be re- 
quired in three respects ; Firstly, the problems, to be solved must 
always be suitable to the pupil's grade of attainment ; the course of 
instruction must be one of unbroken progression. This principle is 
universally known and yet often quite disregarded. In many schools, 
music too diflicult is selected for practice ; and the unavoidable result 
is a lamentable disfigurement of musical works perhaps the noblest 
of their kind. What is the occasion of such errors ? Often vanity ; 
often ignorance of music, not always of an excusable kind. 

Secondly; the teacher must be competent to give in every case 
such directions and guidance as are required, in order to avoid what 
is false, or to remedy it. No pupil can arrange the succession of 
problems for himself, without the invigorating aid of the teacher. 
A whole class may perhaps sing an interval too low, and all exhor- 
tation to sing it higher may be fruitless, however earnestly they 
endeavor to do so, because they do not see what the interval is. In 
such a case the teacher must aid them, by singing or playing the 
required note correctly. 

If the possibility of correctness by the pupil is conceded, then 
thirdly, the teacher must insist with persevering and unbending strict- 
ness, that the problems proposed be solved without error. This pro- 
ceeding will accustom the pupil to correctness, which will become to 
him both a musical and a moral necessity. Once more, therefore, 
endure nothing erroneous 1 Every thing depends upon this. He is 
a forlorn teacher enough who permits inaccurate singing for four 
whole years, with the idea that things will improve in the fifth year, 
because " people learn to walk by stumbling." That proverb, like 
many others, is a heap of meal with a cat in it ; and he who can not 
apply it better than that ought to be ashamed. To such I would 
say : It is not by stumbling that people learn to walk ; it is by 
walking. 

Rules for practice. 

As important aids toward singing correctly I may name the 
following : 



524 SINGING. 

1. Unless the contrary is strictly prescribed, sing witli the full 
strength of the voice. It is a great fault for the children not to pro- 
duce a good full tone. A whispering, lisping, powerless melody is never 
true. But loud singing is not screaming. If the pupils keep strict- 
ly to the musical tones they can not scream. 

2. In much of the practice, an instrument should be used. For- 
tunate is the teacher whose school children come every Sunday to 
church, and standing around the organ, sing the chorals with care 
and perseverance. That will be worth three singing-lessons a week. 

And generally, of elementary singing practice, we may say: 

No instrument. Very bad. 

Piano-forte, Somewhat better. 

Small school-organ. Better again. 

Violin. In general, better still. 

Church-organ. Very good in some cases. 

Sometimes one and sometimes another, according to circumstances. 
Best of all. 

The non-use of an instrument occasions such crying evils, that every 
one must understand them himself. Of the instruments above-named, 
the piano-forte and organ are better than the violin, for accompany- 
ing part-singing ; but for exercises in accent, and practicing single 
voices, the latter is much to be preferred. For while playing the 
violin, the eye can be kept upon all the children, which is not often 
the case with keyed instruments in ordinary school-rooms ; it can be 
carried about; and its sharp and piercing tones are much more im- 
pressive than those of a piano-forte, or of a small school-organ. The 
tones, again, can be modified upon the violin, in any desired way, <fec. 

But let me not be misunderstood. Singing with an accompani- 
ment is not an end, but is the means to an end. A choir accom- 
plishes its proper, real, and most beautiful work, only when singing 
truly and surely without accompaniment — a capella. The same ob- 
ject should be sought in every village school. 

3. In singing by beat, the beat should be kept without any break, 
either by the teacher or by the children, or by both. The teacher 
should keep time by counting aloud, or by movements of his bow, a 
rod, &c., each pupil being to go strictly by it. If the children keep 
time, it should be either by causing some to count aloud while the 
others sing, or by having all mark time. This they should do, not 
by using movements like those of the instructor, up, down ; up, right, 
down, &c., but by audible strokes of the hand either on a table or 
into the other hand ; a much easier, more natural, and more useful 
method. 

4. If orthography is the schoolmaster's heaviest cross, enunciation 



SINGING. 525 

while singing is certainly one of the second rank. Nothing will avail 
toward this end, except for the teacher to use zealous and unintermit- 
ting strictness with the children — no, first with himself, and after- 
wards — with himself again, and after that with the children — in the 
enunciation of everything that is read or sung in the school.* 

11. In particular ; and 

a. Elementary course. This should include 

aa. Exercises in the understanding of the melodic, rhythmic, dy- 
namic, and harmonic relations of tones ; exercises in hearing, which, 
by causing the pupil to note by written marks what he hears, will 
lead to a knowledge of writing music. 

bb. Exercises in singing ; in the production of melodic, rythmic, 
dynamic, and harmonic tone formations. A distinction should be 
made between dynamic exercises and vocal exercises proper, in the 
strict sense ; such as are intended to operate upon the material of the 
voice, and to give it strength, endurance, sweetness, flexibility, .and 
quickness. Nor can the harmonic exercises be properly referred to 
those in melody. In order to avoid confusion, the following compen- 
dious classification will be found convenient: 1. Melodic exercises, 
including those in harmony. 2. Rhythm. 3. Exercises for the voice, 
including dynamics. 

To proceed to the necessary directions as to the arrangement and 
conduct of these departments of practice. 

1. It has already been stated that the elementary course should 
extend through the whole school period, its easiest exercises may be 
commenced with children of five or six years old. For the rest, "Art 
is long, and school time short." There are many things which must 
be studied only by advanced scholars, such for instance as the minor 
key, &c. 

2. The elementary course, as has also been observed, should include 
all the elements, and therefoi'e the harmonic. Harmony, even in its 
elements, is of especial value for formal training ; and is also very at- 
tractive to pupils. It opens to them an entirely new view of music. 

3. The principle already laid down, that the elementary exercises 
should proceed without any intermission, is a universal one ; but in 
singing it is of especial importance, which is the reason why it is re- 
peated here. 

4. The matter should be arranged at once subjectively and objec- 

• There was a little girl who, in a song to Spring which she had learned in school, sang 
" A Moor out of his shell, springs out the tender shoot," (Ein Mohr, Sfc.,) instead of " Up- 
teardt out of, &c.," {Empor, Sfc.,) and when told that the latter was the correct word, sh« 
answered that her teacher knew best about that. 

Again ; a boy was asked what they sung in school, and said, " The Chandelier," (Der 
Kronleuchter ;) having caught that sound instead of the word "Scale," (Tmileiter.) 



526 



SINGING. 



lively. To arrange it wholly objectively is unpedagogical ; wholly 
subjectively, impossible. It is not correct to pursue one department 
through, as rhythm for instance, and then melody, but they should 
be taken in corresponding portions ; first the easiest parts of all the 
departments, so far as they belong to the matter in hand, then 
the more difficult ones, and so on. But this subdivision must not be 
carried too for, for fear of losing the connection of what is taught. 

5. The different departments should be so taught that some one of 
them shall always be the main subject, and yet so that from one step 
to another they shall always form a whole. The former of these 
requisites follows from the principle of taking simple things before 
complex ; the latter will enliven the children, and render the teaching 
substantial and significant. If, for instance, the time be ^, and the 
melody that of the major common chord of the first, there may result 
forms hke this, » 



m 



55- 



i 4 o 



And words may be set to such phrases ; as, for instance, 



i 



a 



MFi= 



^-^ 



^ 



Rise up from your pil-low, for cock-crow is past! 

The smaller the attainments of the pupils, the more care is neces- 
sary to preserve them from what is unmusical and unpoetical. As 
they proceed further, it is of course easier and easier to select not only 
brief musical phrases, but entire songs, which can be used first for 
illustration, and then in the singing course. But care must be taken 
that the songs do not become the principal thing, and the practice of 
the elements secondary. 

The rule that only one department is to be the object of study at a 
time, must not be construed to mean that no time should be kept 
while studying melody, and that the rhythmic exercises should be in 
monotone. So complete a disjunction as this of the elements of 
music, neither accords with the nature of music nor with that of the 
child. We often find rhythm without melody it is true, as in the 
drum ; but melody will not accept the converse, and go without its 
companion and supporter, rhythm. Even the simplest exercises very 
Boon become wearisome and distasteful if they include no rhythm. 



SINGING. 527 

The children's minds develop all parts together; and therefore the 
melodic exercises should have some rhythmic forms, and the rhyth- 
mic ones some melodic form. 

6. The course of proceeding should be from things to their names 
and signs. When, for instance, the children are to go from quarter 
notes to eighth notes, some quarter notes should first be played, while 
the children beat in four-four time ; then a sudden transition should 
be made to eighth notes, which will strike the attention of the chil- 
dren, after which the name of the shorter note may be told them, 
and its representation shown. 

7. Even during the stage of singing by ear, melodic and rhythmic 
voice-exercises should be given. 

8. The harmonic element should be as much as possible omitted 
from the melodic exercises at this stage. It should only be intro- 
duced so far as is necessary to understand and correctly sing the 
major common chord in its simplest forms. 

9. The vocal exercises of this period should be arranged with very 
great care to limit them to the capacities of the age of the children. 
They should, in general, consist of very easy successions of quarter 
notes of moderate pitch, sung sometimes loudly and sometimes softly ; 
such, for instance, as these : 



I 



9^ 



~W 



-^^ 



10. The harmonic element is most appropriately brought out in 
connection with the scale. It is true that very little work can be 
done with it, but that is no reason why none should be done. The 
following points may be taught : 

aa. Construction of common chords or triads upon the first, fifth 
and fourth of the key. 

hb. Construction of the chord of the seventh on the fifth of the 
key. 

cc. Establishment of the following as the fundamental musical 
chords : 





V. 


T. 








IV. 


I. 








IV. 


I. 


V. 


I. 




V. 


I. 


IV. 


I. 




IV. 


V. 


I. 





It will be of course understood that these principles must be brought 
out by means of actual intu'ition. Mere words and figures would be 



r 



528 SINGING. 

entirely useless. The children must hear the chords and their suc- 
cessions. For this purpose the school organ* will be found very use- 
ful, but not indispensable, for the teacher will have a living organ ; 
namely, the children themselves. 

11. Vocal exercises in the scale — with rather more advanced chil- 
dren therefore — should be made a chief study here. 

The best material for this practice is the scale itself, which should 
be sung in long, sustained, crescendo and diminuendo tones. The 
common schools have nothing to do with artistic runs, trills, &c. In- 
strumental accompaniment is especially necessary here. 

The middle notes of the voice should be chiefly practiced, and in 
the scales of D, E|j, E, and F. The children should never be required 
to force out very high notes by a violent effort, which proceeding can 
only do harm. And it is as unfair as it is ill-calculated, to endeavor 
to train the children to a more correct style of singing by making 
them sing every air a third or a fourth higher than it was set by the 
composer. 

12. The pupils should be trained to write upon the staff the notes 
whicb they hear. Diligent practice in writing music should there- 
fore be required. Otherwise the pupils' attainments will be entirely 
one-sided. To sing from note is one thing ; but it is another, and 
equally important for musical culture, to be able to write down notes 
that are heard. Writing music also constrains that class of scholars 
who are disposed to accommodate their singing to that of the rest, to 
the exertion of all their musical faculties. And it is the only mode of 
continuing the instruction after the children have arrived at the point 
of intuitional comprehension of the music, and of preserving them 
from innumerable errors. If Nageli had done nothing except to in- 
troduce writing music as an exercise into the schools, he would even 
then have done them an exceedingly great service. 

h. Singing Course. 

I shall repeat here the three laws already laid down, and shall add 
others. 

1. The singing course should continue through the whole school 
period. Even the youngest pupils will readily sing simple airs by 
ear ; and according to all experience will partake of their enlivening 
and improving effects. 

2. The singing should have a real reference to the life of the 
child.f 

• The melodeon, perhaps, in an American school.— T'rart*. 

t " The simplest enjoyme.nt and the simplest instruction, are enlivened and reinforced by 
singing ; and what we even fail to accomplish by instruction in faith and morals, may be 
taught by song."— Goethe, Wilhelm Meisttr's Wander-Years. 

At the Rauhe Haus near Hamburg, great stress is laid upon singing. Credible reporters. 



SINGING. 529 

Singing is intended to enliven, ennoble, and cheer the whole of 
man's life. Regard should be had to the present and the future 
of the child ; to his permanent and varying relations to nature, other 
men, and God. With reference to the present condition of the chil- 
dren, instruction in singing should, above all things, stand in tho 
closest connection with religious instruction ; including the faith, love, 
and hope of Christians. And on every occasion of school life when 
the religious feelings of the pupils are appealed to, at the beginning 
and end of lessons, weeks, months, or years, at preparation for a 
church festival, at confirmation, the king's birthday, <fec., singing 
should be employed. In our day, the liturgical element, in which 
singing holds an important place, has been introduced for religious 
purposes into schools. This is much to be rejoiced at ; and may be 
of very great service. 

There should be a little singing festival in the church at least once 
a month ; and not merely on such occasions as visitations, consecra- 
ting an organ, (fee. This might be done without difficulty almost 
every where. But it will be necessary to confine the selections to 
the simplest class of music, and to persevere in accustoming the con- 
gregation by little and little to take more pleasure in such music, than 
in the ungodly uproar of the usual style of church music. Materials 
truly useful should be selected, every thing should be thoroughly prac- 
ticed, and care should be taken that the audience may understand 
the words. 

Besides religious songs, secular ones should also be learned, so that 
the children may use them as a means of enjoying themselves at 
home, at play, at festivals, during walks, journeys, &c. And for this 
purpose, such music is appropriate as has the artistic effect of trans- 
porting the child into conditions of existence quite strange to him. 

How shall reference be had, in the school singing, to the future of 
the scholars ? 

First, by having a good stock of chorals.* Chorals are an indis- 
pensable necessity of religion and sacred worship. Every child should 
be able at leaving school, to sing at least fifty or sixty chorals from 
meoiorj^ 

There should also be a suitable number of secular songs. With 
proper management, the pupil may graduate in possession of as many 
as thirty such. What should their subjects be ? Experience shows 
that the religious feelings of the people expresses itself through the 
medium of chorals. For this reason I should use songs for other 

describe the judicious mode in whieh Mr. Wichern makes use of it at prayer and labor, ex- 
hortation and admonition, at serious and cheerful occasions, and sorrow £.nd joy, aud of thft 
important good which he thus accomplishes. 
' These correspond to our usual church psalmody —Traras. 

34 



530 SINGING. 

purposes. Of them, also, I should exclude some kinds, viz : 1. All 
songs of particular vocations, except war-songs, and for their proper 
localities, mountain songs and sea-songs, 2. Songs for occasions 
that rarely happen in actual life ; such as, " Up ! with mountain-staff 
ih hand, forth with joy to Switzerland ;" which is nevertheless in 
itself a good song. 3. All songs which, though perhaps good in 
themselves, do not correspond with the popular mode of thought and 
feeling; such as, "Know'st thou the land where the lemon-trees 
bloom ?" 4. Love songs. 5. Drinking songs. I add a mere sug- 
gestion of the proportion in which I would perhaps arrange thirty 
songs to be learned, namely : five, to incite to good company ; three 
soldier's songs ; three travehng songs ; six for general expressions of 
pleasure, and for observation of nature ; four patriotic ; five romantic 
historical ; four miscellaneous. Total, thirty. For girls, I would 
substitute cradle songs for the soldiers' songs, and for the traveling 
songs, others referring to the observation of nature. 

3. All songs should be beautiful, both poetically and musically. 

What is worthless in itself can never develop the artistic sense, nor 
properly cultivate the feelings. There are good words to bad tunes, 
and wretched rhymes to beautiful tunes. And it requires much study 
on the part of the teacher to acquire a sure judgment on this subject.* 
Especial care is needed with respect to children's songs, properly so 
called ; for among the great number of them are many bad ones. A 
children's song is never good unless it can be sung with some enjoy- 
ment by grown persons also. Moralizing songs for children, in par- 
ticular, are bad, and always will be ; and so are those where the 
children are made to sing to each other, and encourage each other to 
joy, to innocent cheerfulness, &c. ; such as, 

" Open brothers, ear and heart. 
Unto teachings wise." 

" Our daily work is done at length : 
Now for a joyous game ! 
Pleasure for working gives us strength, 
And strengthens all the frame." 



• " Notwithstanding the preat number of songs for the young, yet but very few of them are 
really adapted foruse ; partly on account of their faulty and spiritless melodies, and partly, 
and especially, on account of unsuitable words. * ♦ * * The text of a song must be 
adapted to the young, clear and plain, joyous and vivid ; equally removed from watery and 
feeble sentimentality, and from a stupid jumble of morals and phrases." —Memorial of the 
Nuremberg Education Saciety. 

As music is variously taught and practiced in the teachers' seminaries, many young teach 
erscome to believe that it is an easy thing to compose for singing So they proceed with 
great confidence to make motets, and hymns and canlalas, and make all possible haste to 
introduce their compositions into a church or a school. Great evils are to be apprehended 
irom this source. 



SINGING. 531 

Some valuable observations upon this pseudo-poetry are to be found 
in Franz Horn's '■^Forte-piano^' and Hiecke's ^'■Instruction in German 
in the German gymnasia^'' {Der deutsche Unterrickt auf deutscken 
Gymnasien.) 

With regard to the relation between the words and music, we can 
not be too mistrustful, in particular, of operatic airs with words set to 
them.* 

Songs, to be appropriate, must be both objectively beautiful, in 
themselves considered, and suited to the children's capacity. Children 
should not be forced up to any thing which is without the sphere of 
their apprehensions. On this point, I shall hereafter remark further. 

4. Each style of songs should be used for its proper purpose ; for 
each has its peculiar influence in training the pupil. 

a. Sufficient reasons have already been given for cultivating both 
church and secular singing in schools, it may be added, that the 
former can not properly be very extensively used in the lower classes, 
and must commonly be sung somewhat faster than at subsequent 
periods. 

b. Care should be taken to have the singing in unison, or in parts, 
as the case may demand either. Children less than nine years old, 
usually sing in unison. Part singing is not natural to them, whatever 
credit it would obtain at examinations. With older children the case 
is different ; they may sing in parts ; but should still not transgress 
the limits of popular requisites in the artistic direction. Part-singing 
is however so efficient a means of artistic training, and its power over 
the feelings is so great, that it should not be omitted, even in the 
smallest school. 

On this important subject many mistakes are made. The follow- 
ing principles may serve the reader as initial points for his belief. 

aa. A mixed choir is always most efficient ; and should therefore 
be formed wherever possible. The school will furnish sopranos and 
altos ; and there can always be found some accommodating youths or 
men, who will sing tenor and bass. The thing can easily enough be 
done without sounding drums and trumpets, with prudence and per- 
severance. 

The societies for men's choirs seem in some places and lately to 
have hindered the prosperity of small mixed choirs. This is much to 
be regretted, however useful those societies are. Forget not the 
children ! 

* In an extensively used collection of songs, the " Hunter's Chorus in the Freyschutz," it 
to be found, set to an Advent hymn ! In the same, " Christ a gardener," is set to the duett 
from TituB, " In friendship's arms ;•' which, as a reviewer in the ^'iSoutk Cferman Meesenger," 
(Svddeutscher Boten,) says, "fits like a theatrical costume on a clergyman.-'' 



532 



8INGING. 



hb. In schools where only the children can be employed, the fol- 
lowing plan may be adopted, which will prevent very various errors, 
namely : The children should sing chorals, generally, in unison ; secu- 
lar songs in two parts ; and all music for religious, and especially 
church festivities, in three parts. 

Chorals can not and should not be sung in parts, for the reason that 
time will not be found for practicing them in that manner ; and be- 
cause it would prevent those appointed for the middle and lower pwts, 
from thoroughly learning the air — a great disadvantage. 

Only on some few special occasions should a choral be sung by the 
children in three parts ; and if such an experiment should succeed, it 
would probably be beneiScial. 

Chorals in two parts are always somewhat dry. But if the teacher 
will have some such, let him be careful to see that the second part is 
of an independent and marked character. 

The reasons for singing secular songs in two parts are these : — 

1. This method is indicated by the nature of that sort of music. 

2. The practice will be found sufficient for the needs of the chil- 
dren in that particular. 

3. It does not, like singing in three parts, impose on some of the 
children the necessity of sacrificing themselves for the sake of the rest, 
by the unnatural practice of singing in the lower register, which is 
also in itself uninteresting to them, and if long continued, very wear- 
ing.* But the church requires a more dignified style. Here, singing 
in two parts seems empty and dry ; at least three parts are necessary. 
Nor should the choruses in the liturgy be sung in two parts only ; 
but rather in unison, with organ accompaniment. Children can 
profitably sing in four parts only under very favorable circumstances.f 

c. Solo singing, as well as singing in choir, must also be attended 
to. This is necessary both on account of the individual develop- 
ment of the pupil as well as the formation of his style, and the con- 
sequent influence of it on the feelings. With regard to this last 
point, I need only refer to such songs, motets, and little choruses, 
as are used in school in which choruses and solos alternate. 
The effect of such pieces when well executed, is very good. It also 
has a very good effect, when some single verse of a song is sung by 
some one person, the whole singing the next. The solo singers 
should be trained separately, by which however I do not mean that 
they should be trained in the higher artistic departments of music. 

*Gersbach, Herder, Rinck, Miihliney, B. Klein, and the profund Nageli, have, I believe, 
Bcarcely set any children's songs in more than two parts. Their statements of the reafons, 
however, are not sufficiently lucid. 

!Th-ere are very various opinions ou this point, and I know that many persons differ from 
me. But I have many authorities on my side. 



SINGING. 533 

5. Care should be taken, not only to select music suitable to tbe 
children's capacity, but to practice them long enough to be able to 
execute them with certainty and freedom. 

This principle has already been indicated in substance, but oughf 
to be here again stated in full and expressly.* It is not until all 
technicalities are done away with, and all sense of constraint or im- 
pediment by difficulties is removed, that the heart of the singer opens 
itself. The desperate efforts of some singers, or entire choirs, to ac- 
complish a task beyond their abilities, does not even afford the audi- 
ence the pleasure derived from the breakneck leaps of a rope-dancer. 
Therefore, no great contrapuntistic choruses, nor elaborate solos. All 
that is required is simple songs, and little motets and choruses, at 
the utmost not more difficult than the most difficult of Hientzsch and 
Erk. If circumstances imperatively require that the children should 
execute some more elaborate piece of church music, the most skillful 
of them should be selected, and practiced in private on the cantatas, 
hymns, &c. 

6. The practicing of songs, during the period of singing by ear, 
should be by playing or singing them over to the children, who 
should then endeavor to execute them. 

When the period of singing from note begins, some ten or twelve 
lessons will probably be needed to acquaint the children with the 
main points as to the meaning of the notes, especially their rhythmi- 
cal value ; which should be thoroughly illustrated by examples. Then 
will follow the use of the notes in practicing songs. The children 
should be prevented from becoming discouraged if they do not at first 
understand more than a very little of the details of the system of 
notes. They should be allowed to be astonished, not at what the 
notes do not do for them, but on the other hand as the real help which 
they afford. And they will be much delighted, as the meaning of the 
written notes, at first so puzzling, becomes gradually more and more 
distinct, and when at last the song which is given them to sing shall 
contain its own explanation. 

C. INSTRUCTION IN SINGING, IN COMMON SCHOOLS OF THREE CLASSES. f 

(Two hours of singing in each class, weekly.) 

1. Loteer Class. — (Four half hours.) In each half hour 5 Elementary E.vercises, 
ten minutes ; Songs, twenty minutes. 

2. Middle Class. — (Two full hours.) First : Indispensable information as to 
the notes, and for practicing songs ; together with repetition of songs previously 
learned. This during from four to six weeks. 

• "In order that the execution of compositions may be as little as possible interrupted or 
hindered by ignorance or hesitation, and that no perplexity may interfere with the artistic 
conceptions of the singer, and thus prevent the successful training of his feelings." — Ndgeli. 

t Viz., of a three years' course. 



)34 



SINGING. 



Next, in each hour ; Vocal Exercises, ten minutes ; other Elementary Exercises, 
twenty minutes; Songs, thirty minutes. 

3. Upper Class. — (Two full hours.) First : Continuation of the fundamentals 
of written music, and repetition of songs already learned. This during three or 
four weeks. 

Then, during each hour ; Vocal Exercises, ten minutes ; other Elementary Ex- 
ercises, twenty minutes ; Songs thirty minutes. 

Details on the above points, 
a. Lower class. 

The elementary course consists of simple exercises, in the singing 
by rote of single tones and simple connected tones ; in distinguishing 
high and low, long and short, loud and soft tones, in counting to 
time, &c. ; such as are prescribed in almost all the better class of 
books on the subject. A course of vocal exercises should also be 
combined with this. 

Take for example the following cadence. 



The teacher plays these notes, the children counting them. Then 
let them describe them, somewhat thus ; " The second tone was lower 
than the first, and the third higher than the second ; and the third 
was like the first." Then let them sing them, to the sound ah, first 
getting the measure of their duration from the playing of the teach- 
er ; who must by the way watch carefully to see that the last note is 
not flat. Then let them count to each tone, one, two, and one, two, 
three, and one, two, three, four, while the teacher is playing them ; 
and let them also beat time. And then let them do the same to 
their own singing of the notes. In these cases, they will sing the 
following. 



P^n©^ 



TT 



TT 



o: 



lO- 



^ 



IQJ 



Then let them sing the same notes to words, such as " summer 
comes," or the like ; which will give an opportunity to train them in 
enunciation. That is, they must say, not " sum-mer," dwelling on 
the m with their mouths shut, but su-mmer, holding the vowel 
sound, (fee. Lastly, the cadence may have a name given to it; it is 
a " cadence from below." Such exercises will be found very interest- 
i«g, if conducted with spirit. 

The songs, in the lower class, must be sung by ear, after being 



SINGING. 



535 



played or sung by the teacher. The following may serve as an 
example : 







Oh how cold Uie weather's growing. And the sky all cloud -ed o'er, 







From the North fierce winds are blowing, And the sun-shine's seen no more. 

First the words should be repeated to the class, and said over by 
them. Any inispronunciations should be corrected ; and the words 
"o'er," "north," " fierce," &c., briefly explained. The teacher then 
announces that he will play the melody. All are attentive. He 
plays the first half of it, once, twice, thrice, four times ; the children 
beating time, which they can easily do. Some of them will at once 
begin to hum over the air, but should be stopped. The fifth time, 
they may all sing it, softly. Then the teacher sings it alone, then 
plays it alone ; and then the children sing it by themselves, the 
teacher marking time for them. Perhaps they will sing the second 
or thiixl G too low, or fall behind the time, or take breath after " cold," 
or make the first note of the third full measure too short, &c. ; all of 
which errors should be corrected on the spot. For a change, some- 
times part of the class may sing, and sometimes all ; and perhaps 
some one of them may be found bold enough and able enough to sing 
in solo. The teacher should always accompany, to prevent falling 
from the pitch. After the first half of the melody has been learned, 
the second should be practiced in the same way. When the whole 
is well committed, the teacher may play second to the children's so- 
prano, or sing a second, and play the first. It will not sound well 
for him to sing the air. Then the remaining stanzas of the song may 
be learned. Every thing should be executed correctly and well. The 
result of such a course of training will be very satisfactory. When 
the children go home, they will be singing the song, wherever they 
are. What more could be desired ? 



536 SINGING. 

b. Middle class. 

As has been stated, this class should begin by devoting from four 
to six weeks to a very simple preparation for singing by note. The 
object of this preparation should be to make the children acquainted 
with the leading points of the notation, without burdening them with 
details. It can not be expected that the children shall learn to sing 
independently by note ; but they will receive whatever assistance the 
notes can give them ; their eyes, ears, and feeling for time, will be 
trained. An excessively long step will be avoided, by thus placing 
the children midway of the great space between singing without 
notes, and the free reproduction of what the notes represent. They 
will attain to the position occupied by those many thousand singers 
who do not indeed really sing by note, but who still would not on 
any account be without the notes. In short, the pupils will be placed 
in a situation where they will learn songs, not with a full intuitional 
appreciation, but with the aid of the use of their faculties of tune 
and time. 

What should be the exact importance of these acquirements? I 
think it should be sufficient, if the children learn that 

1. The tones, rise, or fall, as the notes do. 

2. The notes show whether the tones proceed onward by grada- 
tions or jumps, 

3. The steps of the latter kind are various ; thirds, fourths, fifths, 
sixths, sevenths, octaves. The pupils must learn to recognize these 
promptly by the notes. A short series of exercises should be given 
to acquire this facility, preparations having been already made for it 
in the lower class ; by playing one and another of these intervals in 
different parts of the major scale, and making the children what they 
are ; and then by the reverse method of calling for an interval, which 
the children are to sing. But nothing difficult should be introduced. 

4. The notes indicate the length of the tones. 

5. There are whole, half, fourth, eighth and sixteenth notes. A 
whole one is as long as two half ones, a half as two fourths, &c. 

6. There are also rests or pauses, fourth rests, eighth rests, &c. 

7. A note or a rest very often has a point or dot with it; which 
increases its length one half. 

8. The notes are arranged into groups or sections, each of which 
IS called a measure. One measure may contain four quarter notes, or 
three, or two ; or three eighth notes, or six, &c. The pupils must be 
able to name all these. 

9. They must also be able to beat time. For f time, four motions 
of the hand must be made, for f three, for f two, for -f three, for ^ 
six, or sometimes two. It will be a sufficient exercise to them, if ap- 



SINGING. 537 

propriate portions of airs are written on the blackboard, named, and 
then played, while the children keep time, counting aloud, 

10. Various marks are used to indicate whether to sing loudly, 
moderately, or softly. 

11. The words are printed underneath, one syllable to each note; 
if several notes are connected together by a stroke or a curved line, 
they are all to be sung to one syllable. 

12. There are many other marks, which will be learned afterward. 
The present is only a small beginning. 

To know the nr.raes of the notes will be of no use to the children 
in this stftge, because the present object is not an introduction to the 
system of the tones, but merely to afford the means of gathering by 
the eye tn acquaintance with the outlines of a melody. 

About midsummer, if the course commenced about Easter, the 
children can continue their singing practice in the green and flowery 
meadowa ; where they may wander without being constrained by 
methodical hedges and ditches, walls and timbers ; freely, joyously, 
and, if God will, piously. 

Rules for singing practice. 

1. Whatever is to be understood must, so far as the children's 
capacity will go, be made entirely clear to them, and then stated by 
them. 

3. In general, the children should be encouraged to make exertions 
of themselves ; and they should be encouraged — especially those who 
ato in their second year — to endeavor frequently to sing the air which, 
is in hand, without assistance. But this must be done cheerfully and 
with interest ; without any misery or any inflictions. 

3. Where the children's knowledge fails them, play them the 
air. 

4. Part of them — to repeat the suggestion once more — only count 
time aloud, while the others sing. But all of them must always keep 
time by light blows on the other hand or on the table, until the music 
is learned with entire certainty. 

5. Every eye should be strictly required to be directed to the music. 
The less capable may often be assisted by pointing out one note after 
another with a stick. 

Close adherence to these fourth and fifth rules will often give the 
children a facility in singing by note beyond what could have been 
believed. 

An example will illustrate this course of proceeding. I select the 
beginning of a well-known song by Nageh : — 



538 



SINGING. 




~w~P~w 



es 



I 



ie- 



^ - # r-ir 



Grold-en eve-ning sun I 



How art thou so bright? 



Let the notes be very plainly written on the blackboard, at first 
without the words. Then let the notes be first read, thus : " Dot- 
ted eighth ; sixteenth, rising second ; fourth, rising second ; fourth, 
falling second^ &c., &c. ;" ending with " fourth, rising fourth ; half, 
falling third."* Then a rising fourth and a falling third may be sung. 
The children can sing these intervals themselves, with occasional 
assistance, if their ear has been sufficiently well trained. That is, if 
they remember clearly the triad g, b, d, they will not sing g, b, 
instead of g, d. Then those who are in their second or third year's 
practice may sing the scale with Za, except a few who are to be sta- 
tioned with the smaller children, to count aloud, keeping time, also, 
with blows on the hand or the table. If the air is correctly sung, 
well ; if not, let it be played over by the teacher. Then the smaller 
children may sing along with the rest, another section counting; or 
all may beat time. This exercise should continue until the melody 
is sung with entire correctness and in strict time. Then the text 
may be written under the music. 

This practice is for the last half of the singing lesson. The first 
half should be used for the elementary course. My mode in this 
particular would be the following : Take one of the better works on 
teaching singing, and begin where the subject of written notes is 
introduced, and proceed strictly as is written, going very slowly, 
since there is time enough; and be satisfied with whatever acquire- 
ments can be made. Only, some portions of the songs given as 
exercises in time or melody may perhaps be omitted, if the purpose 
of comprehending the written tones is attained ; since the singing- 
course has particular reference to the development of the feelings of 
the children. 

This should usually be opened by vocal exercises ; which are also 
often properly introduced just before or during the singing exercises. 
Our practice (at Weissenfels) is to practice the scale, at first in two 

• This mensuration of the intervals is of the greatest importance ; at least, my own experi- 
ence shows that for the majority of pupils it is the simplest and surest way of learning to sing 
truly. It is an excellent thing when a pupil feels the key so well as to be able to strike the in- 
tervals correctly by taking the notes in their relation to the key note. But this power will fail 
him as soon as the melody passes a little beyond the limits of the simplest juvenile songs, 
and even within those iimits will be much confused by a modulation. In these case.s, if 
the pupil is not practiced in the sort of knowledge of the intervals referred to in the text, he 
will grope about in att uncertain manner, as is the case with too many who sing by figures. 



SINGING. 539 

tetrachords (c, d, e, f; and g, a, b, c:) ilien altogether, usually with 
the sound a, b, sometimes loudly and sometimes softly, (the latter is 
much the most ditficult, but is very important ;) and always beating 
time (with two, three, four or six beats to a note.) 

Thus the pupil makes his way through the middle class. At his 
leaving it, his voice will be found somewhat developed, a fund of 
songs laid up in his memory, and his power of reading at sight 
gratifyingly cultivated. The latter however is very seldom the case 
to au extent that makes it allowable to dispense with carrying on the 
elementary course together with the singing course, in the higher 
class. Careful beating time must also still be kept up for a long 
period yet ; it is only in the latter years of their school life that the 
more capable of the children will be found capable of singing inde- 
pendently by note. 

c. Upper class. 

Before proceeding here with the singing course, the pupils must 
be somewhat further practiced in written music, for the sake of easier 
understanding. From three to four weeks at the beginning of the 
course may be specially devoted to this purpose. However much 
progress may have been made in the middle class, or the elementary 
course, they must yet be taught in the upper class : — 

1. That there is a universal (chromatic) scale which is several times 
repeated. 

2. That it consists of twelve tones. 

3. That the tones are so near together that it would not be easy to 
sing another between them. 

4. That the steps from one of these tones to the other is called a 
half tone or semitone. 

5. That these tones have their fixed names and signs ; and what 
these are. The scale most natural to commence with will be that of 
C, the intermediate tones being added. The nature of these semi- 
tones may be illustrated by marks, by a scale, a staircase, the keys 
of the piano-forte, the situation of the tones on the neck of the 
violin, and by playing and singing them over. 

Reading written music, to which the middle class has at least 
aftbrded an introduction, must here become an indispenable prelimin- 
ary to singing practice. The subject of the different keys can not 
be begun in these three weeks of instruction ; it must be left 
for the elementary course, to be there treated deliberately and. 
thoroughly. 

About Whitsunday, of the third year, again, singing practice may 
recommence, the vocal exercises being resumed, and the elementary 
course taken up again where it was left off in the middle class. 



540 



SINGING. 



I may properly give an instance of the instruction in singing of 
the upper class ; for which I will select a Whitsunday hymn. 



»-r 




N N 



5 



r± 



1^0 



Deck the walls with wreaths of flowers, And conse - crate to God the 




hours, And let 



The course of instruction may be as follows : — 1. The key, 
signature and time may be determined. 2. Count the measures. 
3. Read the notes, as follows, a; a; rising fourth, d ; rising third, 
f sharp; falling second, e; falling second, d; rising second, e ; rising 
second, f sharp ; falling third, d, &c. 4. Take up the longer in- 
tervals. Which are the thirds? The fourths? Who can sing a 
fourth ? How does a sixth sound ? <fec. 5. The upper section makes 
an attempt to sing the scale with la, the lower section beating time 
and counting aloud. Every eye fixed on the notes ! Trifling varia- 
tions from the melody can easily be corrected with the violin ; if 
there are any serious ones, the class must be stopped, and the error 
expressly corrected. If they do not succeed after two or three at- 
tempts, play the passage to them. 

6. All the class sings the scale, naming the notes by name, and 
beating time accurately. 

7. The words are put under the music. 

When afterward the keys are discussed, they can be properly 
spoken of at each lesson. The principal thing, however continues to 
be that the children shall recognize the intervals, even if only by 
their numeral designation, and not by the interval of sound. Expe- 
rience teaches that those who learn on that plan gain a very good 
degree of certainty and facilit3\ It will of course be observed that 
as the elementary course progresses, the increasing vocalizing powers 
of the class can be more and more exercised. 

I could now proceed, if my space would permit, to describe in very 
bright colors our scholar, now stepping forth from the upper class 
into active life, free, joyous, bold, and if God please, pious. But I 
eave every young teacher to imagine such a picture for himself. 



SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 

PLAN OF INSTRUCTION; PLAN OF LABOR. 
Translated from Deisterweg's "Manual for Teachers," for the Am. Journal of Education.] 



Section I. — school DieciPLiNE. 

Can we hope for a conclusive discussion of school discipline ? 

Many teachers have occupied themselves on the subject, and there is 
no end to their discussion on it. We have not thought proper to devote 
to it an extended chapter, for the very plain reason that we do not con- 
sider it a separate, independent department; but as one and the sam? 
with instruction. In our opinion, it coincides with didactics ; and, if not 
identical with it, is still a consequence of it. The true didacticist is also 
a disciplinarist ; he who holds clear views as to instruction, does the same 
as to discipline ; he who instructs well, disciplines well ; subjects of 
instruction are, according to the ancient but often forgotten opinion, 
" disciplines." 

These views — which it would be easy to extend — were not received so 
long as the old dogmatic way of teaching was recognized as the sole duty 
of the teacher. Then, a man might know much, speak well, and " teach " 
well, and yet know nothing of maintaining discipline. Such (to mention 
a name whose reputation will not be injured by it) was Schleiermacher, 
at the Gray-friars' Gymnasium, at Berlin ; and such were many other 
learned men, even down to the present day. But since we have come to 
include in the idea of teaching something more than, and indeed some- 
thing entirely different from, the mere communication of knowledge — 
namely, to stimulate, to develop, to lead into a condition of independent 
activity ; in a word, to instruct, according to the rational modern mean- 
ing of the term — since this has been the case, there have been no longer 
good teachers who have not understood how to discipline their schools. 
As far as his capacity and power of instruction go, just so far do his edu- 
cating power and efficiency go. Whoever agrees with the previous posi- 
tions in this book will agree with this assertion.* The schoolmaster of 
the present day does nothing except to teach, from one day's end to an- 
other. He is entirely a teacher, and is therefore with propriety called 
by that name and by no other. It is not an arbitrarily invented name, 

' Compare this : "Discipline is not the art of rewarding and punishing, of making pupils 
speak and be silent ; it is the art of making them perform, in the most appropriate, easy, and 
useful manner, all the duties of the school." The definition of " school discipline," by the 
Conference Society of Capellan, (see above,) is evidently too broad. "The elementary 
school ought, by the spirit ruling within it, and by its instruction, so to operate upon the 
children that they shall receive a preparation, adapted to their ages and capacities, for tem- 
poral and eternal life." 



542 



SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 



which may be exchanged for a better. The ancient " schoolmaster " has 
nowadays advanced to the grade of "teacher." As teacher, he calls 
into activity the observation, industry, love of learning, capacity for it, 
power of language, capacity for independent action, and self-control of 
his pupil ; all his faculties, not merely those of acquiring knowledge, but 
the feelings and the character. That is, he directs, corrects, and disci- 
plines him, outwardly and inwardly. The pupil attends school. Here, 
order, propriety, morality, good manners, obedience, regularity in com- 
ing, going, standing, and sitting, and in preparing and delivering his work, 
love of his occupation, his teacher, and his school, and also truthfulness 
and credibility, appear as the consequences of the influence of the living, 
educating principle of the school ; that is, of a teacher whose intellect 
and will are active, vivid, and strong ; who, just as Schiller composed, 
philosophized, and labored as a character, does every thing, inspires 
every thing with character'. The whole matter of disciplinary means 
therefore concentrates itself in this requirement from the teacher. 
Teach with didactical — and consequently also with disciplinary — power 
and skill. The principle of teaching is the principle of school edu- 
cation.* 

Thus it appears that the teacher, while bestowing attention upon his 
system of instruction, must also pay attention to whatever outside mat- 
ters relate to it, must adjust his views and practice as to them, and must 
cause his scholars to conform to them. And in like manner it is self-evi- 
dent that, where several teachers are laboring together in one school, 
there must be an agreement upon subjects of this kind, that there may 
be a harmony of action among them, and one may not pull down 
what another builds up. The right spirit of instruction will lead the 
teacher to right action. Shall we go into particulars under this subject ? 
Their name is legion — but we will refer to a few. 

1. Strict enforcement of regularity in teaching school, neither too soon 
nor too late, but before the stroke of the bell. The teacher therefore to 
be in the school before it is struck. This is indispensable. Any one 
coming late to remain standing during the first hour, and to go to the 
foot of the class. 

2. Pupils to be quiet in their places, and to be quiet while preparing 
their lessons. 

3. Exercises to commence at the stroke of the bell, with singing or 
prayer, or both, but briefly. One stanza of a hymn is enough. Unpro- 
gressives have all or half of a hymn sung. But the object of singing is 
to be a stimulus for work. 

4. Position of the teacher before the class, at his post ; not to be wan- 
dering about. To see all, to address all, to question all, to stimulate all, 
as one man. 

5. Indication of readiness to answer by lifting the forefinger or right 
hand, not the arm : one to be selected to answer. 

* Curtmann gives, as the principal requisites of a teacher as disciplinarian, watchfulnesB, 
love of order, consistency, and fairness. 



SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 543 

6. Such one to stand up and speak in a clear, distinct, definite, strong 
manner. No error, stammering, slowness, half-answer, or slothful an- 
swers to be allowed. No telling — that school-pest ! Why? 

7. For repetition, the pupils to leave their places ; not otherwise. The 
teacher who always needs this means of stimulating the attention is fond 
of ease, or a feeble teacher. 

8. Recognition of every endeavor after success, according to the amount 
of effort, even if the results are small. Such recognition encourages ; 
while blame, especially if undeserved, is prostrating. 

9. No moralizing. Give brief and clear orders, laconic praise* and 
blame. The laconic teacher is the best. 

10. Patience with the feeble, unweariedness with those who try, per- 
emptoriness with those who do not do all they can. 

11. The pupil's eye to follow his teacher as a planet the sun, or as a 
satellite its planet. This must happen of itself, or else it is a made-up 
action, and valueless.f Erect but not stiff carriage of the body, the feet 
to be kept still, the hands off the table. 

12. Pupils to leave school quietly and orderly, before the teacher, with 
a silent salute to him ; and to go quietly home. 

Will this dozen of hints be sufficient? Must we instruct the teacher 
how the scholars should behave when a stranger, or the pastor, or a 
school-inspector, &c., visits the school? or how to meet the complaints of 
parents ? or how to punish, with what, whether with a stick, and a thou- 
sand other questions ? Where should we end ? Those desiring inform- 
ation on those points, should study the books already named, on school 
discipline, especially that of Dobschall. As seeking the kingdom of God 
is the first thing, and to be replaced by nothing else whatever, and guides 
into all truth, so does a right spirit in teaching lead to right action. 
This, accordingly, is what the teacher should endeavor after. Without 
it, all else is wood, hay, stubble, which the fire will consume. With it, 
it is impossible to go wrong, although " man errs so long as he strug- 
gles " it is true ; but he will not, on the whole, ever fail of the right 
way. Experience purifies and directs. Not all things are for all. 
" Though two do the same thing, it is not the same ; " and this is true 
both of delinquent scholars and of disciplinary teachers. " No one thing 
is suited to all." What one man applies with success, will fail in the 
hands of another. There is no receipt-book for the thousand and thou- 
sand cases which arise in discipline. " What the understanding of no 
wise man sees, childlike feeling will practice in simplicity." These teach- 
ers are born rich. Others learn from them, by their example, by observ- 

• Praise, that is the approbation of some respected person, (Laudari a viro laudato,') ele- 
vates the sotiL, and encourages it to noble sentiments. See Jeau Paul Richter's '-Life," iii., 
13: "Even the greatest minds, however much consciousness of power and self reliance 
they may have, still sometimes, even from their youth up, feel the need of an encouraging 
recognition of their talents, and of the successful application of them. The estimate of eth- 
ers is indispensable to a man's correct appreciation of his own worth." Every teacher who 
educates should continually remember this. The Hamburger, Gurlitt, is a model. 

t " A made-up educated man is the axist foolish creature under the sun."— (Bettina.) 



544 SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 

ing them, " Demonstration goes beyond study." The best work is done 
by a firm character, a will directed toward good. To this end have we 
" Moses and the prophets." And in this also all depends upon the spirit 
of the work. A right spirit leads to right thoughts ; as is the former so 
are the latter. 

Of means of punishment* we prefer to say nothing at all. They 
are mostly useless and unnecessary ; where the instruction is of the right 
character, i. c, adapted to nature and to the subject. The pupil should 
study in the school, and with pleasure. Where this is the case, there 
will be iew or no improprieties ; where it is not, the teacher will be con- 
stantly obliged to make rules and inflict punishments, but without the 
result desired. For the design of punishment is to do away with pun- 
ishment. But both punishment and delinquency are avoided by love of 
the pupil's work. And this love of the workf must be produced by the 
work itself A consciousness of constantly growing powers continually 
stimulates the desire of their development. The principle of instruction 
is the principle of education ; the method of instruction is the method of 
education.}; Where this is not so, but where the two do not coincide, 
and where, thus, the instruction is not in and of itself educating, but 
only instructs — communicates knowledge — there there is no real educa- 
tion. Those not clear on this point should study the work — which I can 
not sufficiently recommend — of Weiss, '■'•Experiences and Counsels" 
{Erfahrungen und Rathschlage,) 2d vol. The result of his excellent dis- 
cussion of the subject is concentrated in the following statement. " In- 
struction, in order to develop into independent action and fitness for 
actual life the whole mental powers of the student, as a being of senses 
and reasoning powers, should first of all endeavor to stimulate and bring 
into full activity the feelings, as the central point of, and means of ope- 
rating on, all the mental faculties and their results. Instruction, in order 
to accomplish this result, should use its material only as a stimulus, 
should proceed from actual observation of objects of intuition, and should 
trom this develop within the pupil's mind the idea of those objects. By 
this method only can the inner nature be entirely reached, a true inter- 
est in the subject of study excited, and the understanding and will (head 
and heart) alike cultivated, and consequently the individual educated 
by means of education."§ 

* The right of punishing minors, and of applying necessary constraint to them, needs no 
establishment. The means used, however, should be of such a kind that it may be certain 
that "the pupil, if he were to express a reasonable conviction on the subject, would approve 
them."— Rotteck, -Public Science," I., p. 140. 

t Young teachers are most concerned about discipline, because they do not understand 
instruction. And most very learned men, not understanding the latter, do not understand 
the former. If they should acquire a knowledge of methods, they would learn discipline at 
, the same time. This is exemplified at the teacliers' seminaries. Where their pupils are 
made skillful in instruction, they prosper in all things. 

J Pleasure — enjoyment — sympathy — in realities, is the only real existence, and the only 
means of making realities known. All else is vain, and wasted time. — (Goethe.) 

^ I will add to the above an extract from the work of a powerful, thon^iihtful, and experi- 
enced woman — [Tinette Hornberg, " Thoughts on Education and Instruction, especially of the 
Pemale Sex." [Gedan/cen iiber ETzichung und Unlerricht, besonders des Weiblichen Gea- 



SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 



545 



ADDITIONAL. 

The preceding chapter is a brief one. The following propositions may 
perhaps serve as useful themes for meditations connected with it. 

1. Fichte expresses himself as Weiss did, " Orations to the German 
Nation" {Reden an die Deutsche Nation,) Leipzig, 1824, p. 52. 

" Even although this mental action is not that from which good morals 
proceed, and though, to this end, a special direction of that action is 
necessary, still this love is the universal condition and form of the moral 
will ; and accordingly this species of intellectual training is the immedi- 
diate preparation for moral training." 

2. A good teacher must always maintain his discipline with a strong 
hand ; although it is a secondary object, and not a primarj^ one. The 
only primary object is instruction. Discipline is the outward strength 
of armies ; learning is the strength of the scholar. 

3. Discipline is an adjustment from without; cultivation, from within. 
Nor is discipline civilization. Neither discipline nor any particular de- 
gree of civilization necessarily excludes a state of external barbarousness. 
There are barbarians who are disciplined and civilized. 

4. " Instruction is divisible into two kinds ; either educating or purely 
instructing. When the teacher instructs, confining himself strictly 
within his science, strictly within his objective method, this is pure 

ehlechts.) Berlin, 1845 Enslin. A work which I urgently recommend to parents and teach- 
ers. P. 252 :] — "I would, on the contrary, for my own daughters, (i If had tliem,) search 
the world over for a good teacher, and would rather they would remain deficient in any 
thing else than in this. For if I should succeed in obtaining a good instructress, in my sense 
of the term, 1 should also have obtained a good educator. But here also I come into open 
opposition to Herr Schulz. He pronounces it an error to take ns synonymous the ideas of 
' Art of Education ' and ' Art of Instruction.' With reference to the male sex, I will express 
no opinion on this point, althoujrh I entertain a distinct one. But it is my conviction — and 
one not to be shaken — that, for girls, no distinction can be made between these, but that each 
is indissolubly. implied in the other. This is no theory constructed by me in the air, over 
my writing-desk ; it is the result of twenty years' practice — of an experience which can not 
be annihilated by the acutest discu.ssions of the learnedest men. But what is that which is 
called education ? I will permit Herr Schulz himself to answer. It is ' To guide and accus- 
tom young minds to the true, the noble, and the beautiful ; to propriety, modesty, and ele- 
gance.' I will, for the present, accept this definition, though it is too narrow for me, and 
under it would inquire of my own past pupils, whether most of the advantages included un- 
der it, which Ihey gained through me, did not proceed from the hours of instruction. I 
have already had oral or written testimony from many of them, that that very species of 
instruction which Herr Schulz thinks us (women) unfit to give, viz., religious in.struction, ex- 
ercised an influence upon their views and feelings, to which they principally owe whatever 
of good there is in them, and which is still an active and efficient principle within them. It 
was especially during the instruction which I gave my pupils in religion, (I called it instruc- 
tion in Christian duty,) in history, mythology, natural history, &c., that I found oppor- 
tunities of awakeniiig in them, in a manner the most simple and natural, and adapted to 
their capacities, ideas upon the glorious destiny of man in general, and of woman in partic- 
ular, upon the holiest duties of both, upon the great happiness of an existence devoted to the 
service of what is truly good and beautiful, upon the inestimable value of a truly childlike 
relation to God, upon real human greatness and virtue, upon that most difficult and rare art, 
of living a beautiful and noble life— in a word, upon all that concerns the true worth and 
happiness of man ;— ideas whose germs lie slumbering within most minds, but which are 
often not strong enough to bring themselves to the birth, but demand a Socrates to arrest 
them and bring them forth into the clear light of intelligent freedom." 



546 SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 

instruction; as in the universities, &c." — Prof. Braubach, in '■'■ Mager'n 
Eeview," May, 1843. 

I do not agree with this statement. All instruction has an educating 
effect ; is at least intellectually educating ; that is, it renders definite the 
thinking faculties, and gives consistency of thought, thus working indi- 
rectly upon the will. Instruction which did not do this would be a 
mere mass of notifications, not worthy of the name of instruction. 

5. School discipline, like instruction, will take form from the qualities, 
especially the temperament and character of the teacher. The foremost 
influence should be love to the vocation and the pupil ; next, and with 
these, comes strictness in fulfillment of duty, faithfulness in small things, 
and from them love of justice. On the latter point Doederlein — ^'■Ad- 
dresses and Essays," (Eeden und Au/sdtze,) Erlangen, 1843, p. 235 — has 
some very true and acute remarks. 

" The reputation of strict fairness and its closest expression, uncon- 
ditional impartiality, is the first fundamental requisite of eSicient school 
discipline. What I mean is, that the teacher must, from the first, be so 
impregnably established by his whole character in his credit and repu- 
tation, as that nothing else shall be necessary to protect him in the 
practice of entire justice and impartiality. He must absolutely have 
entire freedom to manage his pupils variously, according to their differ- 
ent individualities ; and, both in punishing and rewarding, to follow ths 
higher considerations and requirements of an intelligent prudence and 
wisdom, without being obliged to apprehend a charge of partiality. 
He must have reference to variety of talent and temperament, and even 
of condition and education ; (for if two persons suffer the same thing, 
yet it is not the same.) But all these considerations, let it be observed, 
should be strictly pedagogical, not at all political ; according to the 
commands of conscience, not Uie counsels of worldly wisdom." 

6. The school is essentially an educational institution ; it educates by 
means of instruction ; that is, not merely by communicating knowledge, 
but by the exercise of the faculties on the material which is the subject 
of instruction, and the various arrangements which the success of the 
instruction require. Any one violating these latter, or not applymg hib 
individual faculties to the best of his ability, is deserving of punish- 
ment. Under this statement come all school delinquencies, (crimes not 
being here referred to,) including moral ones, such as lying. The school- 
boy lies, usually, to escape from the punishment of some neglect of work, 
forgetfulness, &c. ; to lie in order to bring a punishment upon his com- 
rade is — to the honor of human nature in boys — a thing unheard of. 
But, on the other hand, the number of cases where he lies in order to 
preserve his comrade from punishment is legion. 

All delinquencies and punishments in school can thus be brought into 
connection with instruction and its requisites. 

Or they may be considered apart ; as moral delinquencies. 

Either view is correct ; neither excludes the other. The educator 
will prefer the latter; but most parents, the former, especially the 



SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 547 

less judicious. The measures pursued may, in the former case, be re- 
ferred to the bibHcal admonition, " Let all things be done decently and 
in order; " in the latter, to the text, "Train up your children in the nur- 
ture and admonition of the Lord." 

7. All school punishments are pedagogical ; that is, they are intended 
to improve the child. Theories of deterring, or of retaliation, are quite 
inadmissible ; as is that of any expiation to an offended God. God can 
not be offended. Men must put themselves on the right terms with him, 
and with his own conscience, by sorrow and improvement. 

That the more strictly religionist {sogenannte strengglauhige) or or- 
thodox and pietist teachers find themselves obliged to use a stricter dis- 
ciplinary practice is a fact. The main reason of this is, the erroneous 
assumption that God's majesty is offended by every wrong action. No 
such view ought to be expressed, even in the penal codes. Whether such 
is the case, must be left to the higher and invisible Judge. Man has no 
voice in that decision, nor consequently should he have in inflicting a 
punishment for it. This same class of teachers often, by reason of the 
same doctrine, see faults and sins where others do not. It is in this case 
as with the ghost-seers. He who believes he sees them does see them. 
But the worst thing is when they look upon the child as a reprobate or 
a criminal. And yet this is seldom a correct opinion, even of such adults 
as are punished for crimes. " The more we examine men and their errors, 
the more occasion we shall find to treat them, not as hardened devils, but 
rather as poor tempted creatures."* 

8. " Much speaking is a weariness to the flesh." Many laws, many 
transgressions. It is enough to frighten one, to read all the rules which 
are given to teachers. See, for instance, the little work, ^'■Discipline in 
the Common School," (Die Zucht in der Volksschule,) by Raimund Her- 
manuz, director of the Catholic Teachers' Seminary at Ettlingen, in the 
Grand-duchy of Baden. Carlsruhe and Freiburg, 1843. Herder, pp. 
48. Catholic clergymen are fond of admonishing and moralizing. In 
this work we find it advised to make use of tablets of rules, places of 
honor, golden-books, &c. All pure supererogation ! Otherwise, the book 
contains many good observations. But he must be a poor teacher who 
needs this army of advice. And quere, can such a master in laws and 
rules ever educate so as to make apt and ready pupils ? Such things 
would leave us to the conclusion that it is better to go back to the old 
fashion, and find in hard blows one universal means against all kinds of 
school delinquencies. Lied? the rod. Lazy? the rod. Struck some- 
body? the rod; &c., &c. Toujours perdrix ! 

9. The Gregorius Strike-hards, in their day, used, " as their daily ap- 
paratus for school discipline, a surly countenance, a thundering voice, a 
litany of terms of abuse, a hard fist, and a tough hazel stick. See 
Schlez's '■'■Gregorius StriJce-hard^^^ &c., (Gregorius Schlaghart, &c.) Nu- 
remberg, 181.3. 3d ed., p. 128. 

• The Prussian Outline of a New Code, and its Relations to the Rhine Country," {Der 
preussische Entwurf einer neven Gesetzgebung und ein Verhalien zum Rheinlande.) By 
Gottfried Duden. Bonn, 1843. Weber. 62 pagee. < 



548 SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 

The eleventh and twelfth chapters of this book, (which are the best of 
the whole,) are still to be recommended to many passionate teachers. 
*'Opposites illustrate each other." 

10. It is proper here to refer to a new work, in which this subject is 
discussed in an able manner; viz., '•'■School Discipline. Systematized in 
a simple plan as a scientifically arranged department of Tcnowledge ; and 
iriefiy and generally discussed from the moral point of view, with direct 
reference to the practical needs of the teacher,''^ (Die Schuldisziplin. Als 
wissenschaftlich geordnete Kunde in ein einfaches System; zusammenge- 
fasst tind avs sittlichem GesichtspunTcten fur die unmittelbare Schulamts- 
praxis hurz und uhersichtUch dargestellt.) By K. F. Schnell. Berlin, 
1850. Wiegand. 123 pages. 

ir. PLAN OF INSTRUCTION IN A SCHOOL.* 

The plan of instruction ( Unterrichtsplan oder Lehrplan) of a school 
includes : designation of the matter to be studied ; its division into the 
different grades and classes ; fixing the time to be devoted to it each year, 
week, day, hour, &c. The scheme for the latter is the lesson-bill, 
{Lektions-und Stunden-plan,) and is a subordinate part of the general 
plan of instruction. The plan of instruction sometimes contains more, 
sometimes less. It may omit any reference to method, which may be left 
to individual teachers ; or it may confine itself to general indications, or 
may extend to more detailed directions ; may prescribe the text-books 
and class-books in each study, &c. It should include, if not a scheme of 
directions for studying, (Lernplan,) at least one for working (Arleitsplan ;) 
that is, such directions that, though the pupil may learn in the course of 
instruction in each separate study how to do his work in it, each teacher 
for himself, and all the teachers of an institution containing several, shall 
be informed what and how much is to be given to the pupils of each age 
and each class for memorizing, preparation, and repetition, orally or in 
writing ; what is the maximum of time which each teacher may require 
to be devoted to his department on any given days, &c. There is no need 
of mentioning minimums, at least in our day ; for our present teachers 
are inclined, not to exact too little from their pupils, but too much. 

We add a few details, as briefly as possible, on the chief points relating 
to a plan of instruction, and their principles. 

1. In drawing a plan of instruction for some particular school (for there 
can be no universal one, nor even a general one for all of a certain class 
of schools, or none except such as are confined to entirely general prin- 
ciples,) the first consideration is to select the studies. These are determ- 
ined by the class of the school (whether elementary, common, classical, 
&c.,) and its purpose. This is the first thing to determine. 

After determining upon the studies, the next thing is, to lay out the 
extent to which each of them shall be pursued, and the apportionment 

* The plan of instruction is the most important part of the school ordinance or school reg- 
ulations; which last include the determination of all matters relating to the school, as grade 
cf institution, authorities and teachers, situation, fees, vacation, &c. But. as these are ad- 
justed by local regulations, and usually by the authorities themselves, we shall here coufina 
ourselves merely to the plan of instruction, with which the teacher is concerned. 



SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 540 

tf them to each class, by half-years, or (which is better) by years. The 
oest courses are arranged by years. The whole extent of what is to be 
.earned by one class, that is within one year, is the year's task for the 
class, and must be mastered, in order to proceeding into the next class. 
It will not be found well to carry the specification down to weekly tasks ; 
it will better for the teacher, during each week, to have regard to the 
task for the year. It will naturally require some years' experience to be 
able to apportion the weekly work accurately in this way. The individ- 
ual character of the teacher will also modify the distribution. One will 
be unable to accomplish what will be mere sport to the other. But on 
this point personal convenience must be subordinate to the requirements 
of the study, and not vice tersa. We can not, however, in this place, dis- 
cuss the subject of personal peculiarities. 

2. The subdivision of the material of each study among the various 
classes and years is called the course of study (Lehrgang.) 

The governing rule in this particular is the furthest proposed point of 
attainment in the school, which is decided by its object as a school. 

The distribution of the material to be studied among the various classes 
proceeds backward from this point, having reference of course to the age 
of the pupils, and being such that the highest class will reach the pro- 
posed furthest point. Subject to this object, the distribution will be ad- 
justed to the contents of each study, in the first instance without refer- 
ence to any other studies to be pursued by the class during the same time. 
Only when the extent of the various studies to be pursued by each class 
has been fixed can their various scopes be compared, and the estimate 
made whether their total exceeds the capacity of the pupils. The distri- 
butions of the various studies thus first made was a provisory one ; and 
the final one can only be made at this point. Further actual experiment 
will bring any necessary modifications. These will be made, in part, as 
teachers, books, &c., are changed. Every plan of instruction is, there- 
fore, a provisory one. In this world every thing is temporary. We are 
all provisory persons, ourselves, and so are all our institutions and works, 
without any exception. Whether that which is appropriate to-day will 
be so to-niorrow will appear when to-morrow comes. Nothing can claim 
that it will be appropriate to-morrow merely because it is so to-day. Its 
suitableness for the morrow must decide for it ; nothing else. The dead 
have no right to legislate for the liying. " Only the living have rights." 

The following general principles may be stated, for the selection and 
arrangement of the materials of a studj^ 

a. The most important points should be made most prominent ; those 
less so may follow after. 

J. If the time and capacity of the pupils and teachers are sufficient 
only for the former, then the latter, the less important points, may be 
omitted, or made entirely subordinate and considered along with the 
others. The studies, for instance, absolutely indispensable in every com- 
mon school, even the smallest, are Religion, Reading, Writing, Arithmetic, 
and Singing. Those not absolutely necessary are all others ; such as real 



550 SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 

studies, called also studies in useful knowledge, knowledge of forms, 
drawing, &c. The useful-knowledge studies may, if necessary, be con- 
nected with reading, and studies out of the reading-book. 

c. Whatever is presupposed in a subsequent study must have been 
learned in a former one. 

d. Related subjects must be attended to at the same time. (See the 
didactic principles above laid down.) 

e. In each successive grade, the powers of the pupil must be exerted, 
not upon many subjects, but upon few. In a higher school, for instance, 
two languages should not be commenced at the same time. The success- 
ive method should also be used ; or rather a successive arrangement. 

In arranging the course of a single study, the most important point is 
the arrangement of materials. As (merely for illustration) in Arithmetic, 
1st, numbers from 1 to 10 ; 2d, from 10 to 100, &c. : in Geography, A, 
preparatory course — home geography ; B, geography proper — including, 
1st, mathematical geography, 2d, physical geography, 3d, political — as, 
a, of Europe, i, of Africa, &c. 

The second point in a special course of study is the presentation or 
management of the materials, either scientific or didactic. The former 
considers the subject in a purely objective manner, the latter has refer- 
ence at the same time to the needs or nature of the pupil who is to study ; 
whether he is an elementary pupil, a gymnasiast, &c. Here, also, the 
method followed makes its appearance : whether analytic, proceeding 
from a whole to parts ; synthetic, from parts to a whole ; or genetic, de- 
ducing one thing from another. Thus, instruction in language may pro- 
ceed from sentences down to single sounds (analytic ;) or from sounds up 
to sentences (synthetic ;) or by the production of finished and compound 
sentences from simple ones (genetic.) 

On these principles the subjects of study may be distributed according 
to the different classes of the schools. 

3, As to division into classes, and distribution of studies among teach- 
ers, the following principles may be laid down : — 

a. The younger the pupils the fewer the teachers ; and only one where 
possible. 

I. Always one principal teacher, or class-ordinary, for one class, with 
a principal study ; who is to maintain a unity of action in order, disci- 
pline, &c. 

c. A class system should prevail in every common school, rather than 
a system by departments of study (Fachsystem.) 

d. The principal of the school (rector, director) should conduct some 
lessons in each class. 

e. The most skillful teachers should be employed in the lowest classes, 
and the next most skillful in the highest. 

/. A less skillful teacher should be employed in the department he 
understands best, in several classes. 

g. No one should have an exclusive privilege of teaching in one class. 
The good of the school must be considered before private preferences. 



SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 55I 

4. With respect to time the following principles may be stated : — 

a. Studies and classes should, from time to time, be redistributed in 
various waj's among the teachers. Variety is refreshing. 

h. The greatest number of hours should be devoted, not to that study 
which is in itself most important, but to those which require most time 
to master them. For example : religious instruction is more important 
than all other instruction ; but it does not follow that a greater number 
of hours should be devoted to it. The influence of religious instruction 
is not proportioned to the number of hours devoted to it. Every true 
teacher is a religious teacher. Religion is not an isolated thing, discon* 
nected from others. 

c. Studies requiring most concentration and intense action of the mind 
from teachers and pupils should be taken Up in the first part of the fore* 
noon ; though, at the same time, regard must be paid to a proper inter^ 
change of subjects. 

d. A parallelism between the first and second halves of the Week is 
well enough, but not absolutely necessary. 

e. The lesson-bill of a school of one class, with one teacher, will of 
course differ from one for a school with several separate classes. In the 
former case, such studies must be entered for each hour as permit the 
teacher to instruct in one study with one portion of the pupils, while the 
rest are at work by themselves, or with the help of an assistant. In the 
latter, a great variety of arrangements are possible, a selection from 
among which will depend upon the judgment and experience of the 
teacher of each individual school. There can be no universal rule of 
proceeding for all cases. 

"Yourself is the man ; " "Demonstration is better than study." That 
is, it may be better (for instance) that one division of the school should 
occupy all of half a given time than that two divisions should together 
occupy twica as much. Circumstances are frequently decisively power- 
ful, and not to Vje overcome. In many situations the question must be, 
not what could be done if the case were so and so, but what can be done 
under circumstances as they are, which can not be modified ? Instruc- 
tion is necessary, and profitable; but there are also other necessary 
things. The teacher should not be a weak, still less a narroM'-minded, 
man ; who can see nothing except his pupils, and who thinks that the 
salvation of the world is depending on his efforts, and the salvation of 
his pupils on their attendance at school, 

5. The plan for working (Arbeitsplan) should define for each day of a 
year how much time the pupil in each class shall devote to private study. 
It is the maximum of time, of course, as was already observed, which 
must be fixed for each study on each day. The principal points to be 
regarded in this arrangement may be gathered from the following 
observations. 

a. Nothing should be prescribed for the sake of prescribing it, nor for 
the sake of keeping the pupil busy — an object which many ignorant 
parents desire to obtain for every hour ; a point which the teacher should! 



552 SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 

never concede to them — but because this method of study promotes 
progress, develops the pupil's self-reliance and power of independent ef- 
fort, and assists him in mastering his materials. The lessons must, accord- 
ingly, be carefully selected, and must always be suited to the age and 
powers of the pupils. 

&, The younger and less capable the pupils are, the less able are they 
to study by themselves at home. 

c. The teacher should make the pupil master of the substance of his 
work, and not leave it to the latter himself; for, as a general rule, he will 
not be competent. Under the direction of the teacher, and with his 
mind fully awake, he will learn more than in ten times the same time 
alone, amongst the interferences or fatigue of home. The school becomes 
agreeable to thousands of scholars, (and hundreds of thousands of par- 
ents,) from the misery which their studies at home inflict upon them. 
And what is the use of studying in pain and misery ? How does it rob 
the child of valuable time, which he ought to be using in his own sports 
and in the cheerful company of his parents ! Therefore, all labor at home 
should be confined within a reasonable extent — at present within the 
indispensable minimum; for the opposite extreme, even in schools for 
girls (!) is the present tendency. The first question for the teacher to con- 
sider at present is. Are these hours of study at home indispensable ? Can 
they be omitted ? (God bless this reflection : posterity will thank us 
for it.) 

4. The work for the studies at home must be previously mastered in 
the school. 

It is not enough that a task is prescribed which is reasonable in itself 
The pupils must be rendered capable of themselves attaining a perfect 
mastery of it. How do the poor children torment themselves if they 
find themselves unable to do this ! Therefore, the teacher should show 
them how to memorize, prepare, recite, write a composition, solve a 
problem, &c., by going through those respective kinds of work with them. 
Thus the teacher becomes the true friend of his pupil ; a much more ef- 
ficient relation than that of master. (There arc still many teachers who 
are not, it is true, flogging-masters, but are still prison and torture-masters. 
In the hands of many teachers, the catechism is a real instrument of torture. 

e. The scheme or plan for working should contain directions for a whole 
week, and every day of it, by name — Monday, Tuesday, &c. ; and with 
two columns for each day — "Written Exercises" and " Oral Exercises." 

The principal studies of Monday should naturally be arranged with 
reference to the business of the Sunday ; viz., rest and edification. Those 
of Thursday should be somewhat similar. 

The oral and written exercises should have a relation to each other. 

On the first day of the year's course, the plan for working should be 
delivered to each pupil, along with the lesson-bill, and both should be 
hung up in the school. Both are, of course, the result of the ripest con- 
sideration of the associated teachers. It may contain a list of the books 
which each pupil must procure. 



SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 



553 



Instead of further remarks, we shall add one or two examples, but still 
not as models ; every lesson-bill and plan of working must be an indi- 
vidual work. 

PLAN OF WORK FOR FIFTH CLASS OF A SEMINARY. 
(Boys 0/7 to 8 years.) 



TO PREPARE AND 
WORK UP FOR. I 



m WRITING. 



Monday. 



Arithmetic. 



Tuesday. 



I Work in German. 



From Bible history. 
Reading from reading-book. 
Learning a hymn. 



Wednesday. 



Thursday. 



Friday. 



[Saturday. 



Penmanship. 
Arithmetic. 



Work in German. 



Penmanship. 



Stanza of hymn, or some texts, 
Reading lesson. 



Reading lesson. 



Biblical history. 
Reading lesson. 



Stanza of hymn, or texts. 
Reading lesson. 



Memorize from reading-book. 



1 2 



Monday. 



Tuesday. 



Wednesday. 



Thursday. 



Friday. 



PLAN OF WORK FOR THIRD CLASS OF A SEMINARV, 
(Boys o/" 10 to U years.) 



IN WRITING. 



Arithmetic : 

lems. 
One drawing. 



some prob- 



French : translation from I 

Schifflin. 
Arithmetic : problems. 



French : translation from 

Schifflin. 
Latin : translation. 



German : a composition. 



H 



I French : translation from 

Schifflin. 
[Arithmetic: problems. 



[Saturday. [French: translation from 

Schifflin. 
[Latin : translation 



Geogi'aphy : a task to 

learn or repeat. 
German : to learn a poem 



FVeneh : memorizing. 
Latin : memorizing from 
grammar. 

French : memorizing. 
Latin : preparing a lesson. 
Religion : memorize a 
text or stanza. 

Latin : memorize from 

grammar. 
Geography : memorize a 

task. 
German : memorize a 

poem. 



French : memorizing. 
Latin : preparing lessons, 

or grammar. 
Religion : memorize a 
[| stanza or text. 
French : memorizing. 
Latin : preparing lessons. 



2* 



554 SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 

6. Principles as to books and methods. 

The selection of school-books is sometimes left to the teachers, and 
sometimes prescribed. Between these extremes, of entire freedom — 
which may run into arbitrariness — and the utmost definiteness, there are 
many different degrees. Sometimes the teachers select, subject to the 
approval or rejection of the officers ; sometimes the plan of study desig- 
nates a number among which the teachers may select, &c., &c. ; among 
all which intermediate plans, that which is legally practiced in Prussia 
seems much to be preferred. In Austria the latter of the two extreme 
modes prevails; which secures a fixed and uniform course, one entirely 
stationary in respect of improvement. In the condition of the Prussian 
system, it is a useful arrangement for the plan of instruction to designate 
those books which, for the present, (until better ones appear, or others 
are found more suitable,) shall be used as manuals. This plan materially 
aids in fixing the terminations of the class courses ; as the rate of prog- 
ress is thus easily fixed. Thus, in Kohlrausch's Biblical History is taken, 
during the first year, from §1 to §25, inclusive ; and so on. 

It is also of great use to designate the means by which the teachers 
will find their labors facilitated. 

As to methods, most teachers are of opinion that they should be prop- 
erly and exclusively determined by the teacher ; and that the plan of in- 
struction should, in this respect, confine itself at furthest to entirely gen- 
eral prescriptions. The teacher, it is said, is the method ; a good teacher 
with a bad method is better than a bad teacher with a good method, &c. 

To these views I can not subscribe. If it is true — and who will at this 
day deny it? — that didactics has its laws, then these must be observed, 
and can be violated only to the injury of instruction. These laws were 
established in order to be obeyed. They are based upon investigation 
of human nature, and of external objects. As long as these last do not 
change, those laws must prevail. 

And as to the comparison above cited we hardly know what to say of 
it. Of the four combinations, 

1. Good teacher with good method; 

2. Good teacher with bad method ; 

3. Bad teacher with good method ; 

4. Bad teacher with bad method ; 

it will easily be seen that Nos. 2 and 3 are impossible, as implying evi- 
dent contradictions, and that Nos. 1 and 4 are mere tautologies. It is 
self-evident that a good teacher will have a good method, and a bad 
teacher a bad one. The method is not a garment, that can be put on and 
off, fhe man always remaining the same. It is the expression of the 
teacher's personality, as interpenetrated with the nature of the thing 
studied, and the Hving consciousness of the nature of the pupil ; it is the 
objective instructing mind itself. If the idea is admitted that a bad 
teacher can have a good method, and vice versa, it is implied that the 
method is some external thing, which might perhaps be called a man- 
ner, but should never be called by the honorable name of a method. 



SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 



555 



Such a manner, pattern, or wooden regulation, how useful soever, will 
certainly never make good instruction out of bad ; they do not even de- 
sire to be mentioned at all. They belong to mere manner, as do all other 
merely external matters, and may be in one way or another, and good in 
either case. 

There are many teachers who pay no great attention to methods, ei- 
ther because they have to be arbitrary, or because they do not under- 
stand what methods are.* They have probably accustomed themselves 
to a particular kind of instruction, (commonly that of prelection,) and 
now find this very convenient, or, as they say, "practical." They say, 
"I find it exceedingly well adapted tome." Granted; but what does 
this prove for the value of their method ? How do the pupils find it to 
agree with them ? Will the object of instruction be attained ? These are 
the questions which need to be answered. Nor would I desire to destroy 
that freedom which the teacher must enjoy, in reference to the develop- 
ment of his personal character, and the recognition of it ; but this free- 
dom must not become entirely lawless, and proceed arbitrarily, on thft 
principle that "Such is my good pleasure." Nor can I assent to Pust- 
kuchcn's doctrine, that "The important matter is the result; not the 
mode in which it was produced. The former must be definitely required ; 
the latter may be left to free choice." For the value of the results de- 
pends precisely upon the way in which they are produced. If the latter 
is not light, the former can not be valuable. Therefore, I claim that the 
plan of instruction should indicate the method to be followed in each 
study, in each stage of it, on the received principles of didactics. Of course 
pedantry is to be avoided : the old principle holds good, " In things neces 
sary, unity ; in things doubtful, liberty ; in all things, charity." There- 
fore, there should be, in each class, fixed outlines for each study, for all 
teachers, whatever their varieties of character and tendency. These pre- 
scribed outlines should not be considered strait-jackets and go-carts, but 
only as confirmed principles ; not as dogmas, but as results of all reflec- 
tion and long experience, both at home and abroad, and as to be received 
until better shall be found. Such principles as develop themselves grad- 
ually out of the united experience of the teachers of one school, as a 
common opinion as to the best mode of action, form a center and rule for 
the efforts of all, and insure unity of aim and endeavor. 

7. Lastly, there may be added to the plan of instruction some gen- 
eral regulations as to discipline. This department we consider, as was 
already stated, not at all as a separate branch of the labor or the atten- 
tion of the teacher, but as strictly a constituent of instruction ; and, gen- 

* " A protest has been made, on strictly supra-naturalist or rationalist and thus quite one- 
sided grounds, against .special instruction, against a general methodology; as being that 'by 
which the power of each body of teachers is broken down, and their most important indi- 
vidualities, and the benefit arising from them, are neutralized.' But the inquiry may very 
properly be made, What power 1 what individualities'? For aW powers— the most distinct 
individualities— always have submitted, and always do submit, themselves, in all places and at 
all times, to a higher will, to universal laws, with a free obedience which makes them loftier 
and freer."- Kapp, p. 79. 



556 SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 

erally speaking, only as the general conception of such externals as must 
be regulated in order that the attainment of the purpose of instruction 
may be made as certain as possible. In some points the teachers must 
be agreed. Therefore, the plan of instruction should define, 

a. How the books shall be held ; whether ad libitum^ or on some one 
model, &c. 

&. Before what time the pupils must be present ; and after what time 
not admitted, &c. 

c. Where they shall assemble. 

d. Whether they shall salute the teacher. 

e. Whether they shall rise up or not when answering a question. 
/. What shall be their position on the benches. 

g. Whether any use shall be made of emulation. 

h. What measures shall be applied to those who do not perform their 
work, or not in time, or not in the right way. 

i. What shall be done to those who do not complete their tasks, &c. ; 
and as to other matters in the school, in part of a local nature. 

Such matters may seem to a mere observer of little importance ; they 
are, however, in fact, of great importance, and for want of regard to them 
many schools are ruined. In education, every thing is important ; and 
the conscientious teacher will omit nothing. He will, with religious earn- 
estness, apply himself to great things, and to apparently small ones also. 
Thus he will save himself a multitude of troubles and obstacles ; will, by 
means of foresight, watchfulness, and careful supervision, escape the 
painful necessity of inflicting frequent punishments; and will every 
where appear as the loving, careful, and intelligent father of his pupils. 
He will look for the essence of things, not in laws, regulations, and rules, 
but within — in the soul. "Salvation comes from within." "Words are 
nothing; it is the spirit in which we act." 

8. Literature. 

1st. Plan of instruction for the common schools, with special reference 
to the province of Prussia. By J. F. Sluymer, {Lehrplan fur Vollcs- 
sehulen, mit vorzuglicher BerucTcsicMigtmg der Provinz Prenssen. 
Ausgearleitet von J. F. Sluymer.) 2d ed., Konigsberg, 1847. Grafe 
& Unzer. 

After an introduction, respecting the idea of a plan of instruction, the 
place of the common school, division into classes, extent of study of each 
class, &c., the author lays down his course of study. For each study he 
states, in beginning, its end ; the furthest point to be attained. He then 
discusses the study itself; states the portions of it to be studied in the 
lower, middle, and higher classes ; names proper works, both to be used 
by the pupils and by the teachers, in preparing and further cultivating 
themselves ; and ends the section with observations on the mode of in- 
struction, the most probable defects and errors, &c. A very useful and 
judicious work. He adds, at the close, some lesson-bills, with remarks 
on attendance, and gives a sketch of a good school. 

2d. Outline of a plan of instruction for common schools, (Entwur/eines 



SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 557 

Unto'i'lclitsplanes fur Volksschulen.) By R. Kirscli. Leipzig, 1840 
Reclam. 

Already referred to.* 

3d. Brief plan of instruction for the common schools, as a guide to the 
surer attainment of their objects. By several educators, and edited, 
with an appendix in school discipline, by A. M. Claussen. {Kurzgefasst- 
er Lehrplan fur Volksschulen aU Wegweiser zur sicherern Erreich- 
ung ihres Zieles. Entworfen von etUchen Schulmiiyinern undmit einem 
Arhangen uher Schuldiaziplin Jierausgegeben ton A. M. Claussen.) ' 2d 
ed., improved. Oldenburg, 1844. Stalling. Pp. 50. 

4th. The Burgher Schools in Leipzig in 1842. A picture from life. 
{Die Burgerschule in Leipzig in Jahr 1842. Ein Bild nach dem 
Leben.) By Ds-. Vogel. Leipzig, Barth. Pp.152. 

This work describes the organization of the real schools, burgher 
schools, and elementary schools of Leipzig. May such a picture soon 
be possible of all our larger cities ! 

5th. Ordinance for the Real Schools of Meiningen and Saalfeld. {Ord~ 
nung fur die Realschulen zu Meiningen und Saalfeld) Meiningen, 
Gadow. Pp. 76. 

A model of completeness as an ordinance for these schools : containingj 
1. Classification of schools; 2. Plan of instruction ; 3. Regulations as 
to service of teachers ; 4. Regulations for examinations, 

' There appeared, in 1829. at Schwelm, (Scherz publisher,) my own " Plan of Instruction 
for the Elementary School at Mors," {Unterrichtsplan der Elementarschulm in Mors.) 
Pp.68. A. D. 



MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATION. 



INXKODUCTIOK. 

The subject of education is man, in regard to body and soul, in his undeveloped, 
imperfect state. 

The aim of education is, to promote his mental and physical abilities, in a 
manner harmonious with nature, in order that the object intended by nature may 
be reached as perfectly and as certainly as possible. 

This presupposes, above all things, the existence of natural abilities in man ; 
that these abilities can, and should, be developed ; and that this development 
must be effected in harmony with a certain general high aim, which determines 
the direction of the development. 

The science of man, his natural abilities, and the natural development of 
the same towards a determined highest aim, i. e., Psychology and Anthro- 
pology, forms the most necessary foundation of a philosophy of education, and 
its first part or division. 

MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATION. 

I The philosophic observer distinguishes in man, as the subject of 
education, at once two parts, viz : bodi/ and soul ; and between these 
two parts, a difference, as well as a harmony and cooperation. Con- 
sidered each by itself, the parts appear not only to be different, but 
in seeming opposition to each other. Considered in union, they ap- 
pear not only as being naturally and designedly made for each other, 
but as the two necessary factors to the product called life, each com- 
pleting the other, and each in want of the completion of the other ; 
each one influenced by the other, and influencing the other in return ; 
and both, although thought of as separable, in reality inseparable, 
and acting always in union. 

However accustomed science may be to separate body and soul, 
it is far more important for the educator to conceive and observe 
them in their inseparable reciprocal action, and in his educational 
work, never to operate upon the one without due consideration of 
the other. 

The body is the organ of the soul, in all the outwardly directed 
activity of the latter. The former is composed of the same chemi- 

Translated from Dr. Biecke's Erzichnugilchre, by Prof. Bengal, State Normal School, Tpsi- 
lanti, Michigan. 



560 



MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATION. 



cal substances which form the whole remaining visible world. An 
uninterrupted assimilation and return of the particles from the sur- 
rounding world, or a continual change of matter is the condition 
of its existence, and of all its activities. With the discontinuance 
of this change of matter in the body, its life becomes extinct. 

Entirely different is it with the soul. In the midst of all this 
change of matter, by which, in a short time, the body becomes an 
entirely new one, containing not a single fibre from the former, 
the soul retains unttt/ and continuity of consciousness. This single 
fact is sufficient to prove the fallacy of the materialistic assertion, 
that the soul is only a product of the physical organism. If it were, 
its consciousness also would necessarily change with the change of 
the particles, by whose cooperation it should be originated. Thus 
the soul must be considered as endowed with reality, constancy, and 
independent individuality. 

But hoio does the soul communicate with this material organ ? 
How is it able to influence and to move it ? Why is it that the 
body so perfectly answers its wants ? And what becomes of the 
soul after having lost this material organ by death ? These ques- 
tions have at all times occupied the minds of the greatest thinkers, 
without being definitely and conclusively answered yet. The dif- 
ferent answers made from time to time to these questions, form the 
different systems of spiritualism, materialism, and that of the real, 
organic incoi'poration, {die organische Vereinigung ; Fichte). An 
extended treatment of these systems does not belong here. To the 
demands of a sound philosophy of education, neither the system of 
spiritualism of Leibnitz, with its predetermined harmony, answers ; 
nor modern materiaUsm with its denial of the independent existence 
of the soul, and its continuance after death. The philosophic edu- 
cator must adhere to a real connection of body and soul, and, at the 
same time, to a real difference between both, if he means to act upon 
both with efficiency and a hope of success. 

If we compare man with other organic beings, we should seek for 
the specific superiority of the former, not so much in the nature of 
his body, as a whole or in parts, but rather in the nature of his soul ; 
for the body is always more or less only the expression of the pe- 
culiar type of the soul. If, therefore, the perfection of an organ 
consists in this, that it answers perfectly its purpose, then the body 
of animals, in its kind, is not less perfect than that of man. Only so 
far as the soul of man stands specifically higher than the soul of 
animals, does it need for the expression of its peculiar type a differ- 



MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATION. ggj 

ently devised and a relatively more perfect organ. Kow, the specific 
characteristic of the soul of man is self-consciousness ; i. e., the 
ability to make its own thinking, feeling, and volition the subject of 
reflection. 

A soul endowed with self-consciousness, and consequently with 
rational thought and self-direction, is called mind. 

The soul of the animal possesses consciousness, but not self-con- 
sciousness ; it is, therefore, not mind. We may attribute to an animal 
an unconscious reason (instinct), but it never is conscious of it, or 
applies it with self-consciousness. Man alone possesses the ability to 
develop himself to a truly mental being. Man is not born with 
self consciousness ; much less can we speak of his innate under- 
standing, innate reason, innate memory, innate power of volition, 
etc. All these, afterwards so decidedly predominating, character- 
istic activities of man, must be considered as the products of de- 
velopment. For this reason, those activities do not manifest them- 
selves at the beginning at all, and afterwards by different persons, 
and at different degrees of development, in such a different manner. 

But the possibility that these powei-s (reasonable thinking, v^olition, 
etc.) can be developed in the soul of man in connection wath self-con- 
sciousness ; that, in the normal course of development, they must, 
sooner or later, make their appearance, and become the property of 
the human soul, constitutes man's superiority, that which gives him 
the right to be called a reasonable thinking being, and justifies his 
taking rank above animals, which are not capable of such develop- 
ment ; for this development presupposes an originally different or- 
ganization. 

All activities of the human soul can be reduced to two innate 
elements, which, however, always act in perfect cooperation, namely : 
first, the ability to receive and to be influenced by impressions made 
by outside objects, i. e., receptivity ; and second, the ability to direct 
itself towards the objects of the outer world, in order to make them 
the object of its activity, i. e., spontaneity. The cooperation of both 
elements produces in the soul of man, conceptions, emotions, and 
desires. Conceptions, emotions, and desires result, therefore, from 
three different activities of the soul, different only by the differ- 
ing relations of the two factors. 

The soul of man is active in this threefold manner from the very 
first moment when, through its receptivity ?ind spontaneity, it enters 
into intercourse with the external world. This activity is, how- 
ever, in its first attempts, very weak, extensively as well as 

36 



gg2 MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATION. 

intensively — it is almost beyond the boundaries of observation. 
But it grows every day — indeed, every moment. It is the iden- 
tical process which we observe in the physical growth of every 
plant and animal. It is a gradual increase of strength. Every 
progress contains the germ of further, as it was the result of a for- 
mer, progress. At every moment, new productions of the activity of 
the soul are added to the former, and become thus again the material, 
the means of more fruits. However gradually and constantly, and, 
as regards single momenta, imperceptibly, this process of develop- 
ment progresses, nevertheless certain stages or periods in it can be 
distinguished, which exhibit decided characteristics. These periods, 
or characteristic stages of development, are of the highest import- 
ance in regard to education. For, while they exhibit to the edu- 
cator the nature of his pupil, from a new point of view each time, 
they teach him, at the same time, the windings through which the de- 
velopment of his pupil goes onwards. And, as in every one of these 
periods, every mental power assumes a peculiar position, and as only 
by the relation in which each stands to the other in each stage, is its 
peculiar value determined, the educator learns to recognize the par- 
ticular value which belongs to every one of these powers in every 
moment of time, and at all the periods of development. 

Thus will the educator be kept, on the one hand, from overrating 
any single mental faculty, which might lead to a hurtful prefer- 
ence of the same, and on the other hand, from underrating any fac- 
ulty, which might lead to its injurious neglect. These principal stages 
of development or periods of education are so distinctly stamped and 
imprinted that language has long afforded designations for them. 
In our own, as well as in every other, certain periods are distin- 
guished — (1) childhood, (2) boyhood, (3) youth, (4) manhood, (5) 
old an-e. To the first three of these is assigned the work of system- 
atic education. It is, however, difficult to determine the boundary 
between these stages of development ; they flow almost imperceptibly 
over into each other. Mere limitations of time cannot define them 
■exactly, smce development progresses sometimes quickly, sometimes 
slowly. It only remains, therefore, to collect the essential signs or 
tokens of each stage, into a characteristic picture, indefinite enough, 
in regard to time, to admit all ordinary variations in development. 

The whole life of man can be divided into early age, middle age, 
and old age. Of these, only the early age is the real period of 
education. It comprises, first, the childhood, which is again subdi- 
vided into the first childhood (until the end of the third year) and 



MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATION. 563 

in the second childhood (until tlie end of the seventh year) ; second, 
the boyhood, wliich entls with the fourteenth or fifteenth year ; and 
third, the age of youth, which ends with the twenty-second or twenty- 
third year. 

Far more important than exact division of time, is, however, the 
discovery of the characteristics of each one of these periods of devel- 
opment. These are given by the history of the development of man, 
as experience jilaces it daily before our eyes. 

The first sign of life of a new-born child is its hreatMng. "With 
this it enters into an intercourse with the outer world, and particularly 
with the air, that subtle, mobile, all-penetrating and all-surrounding 
elastic fluid, which is destined to be an indispensable element of man's 
life from his first breath to the last. But the opening of this intercourse 
with the outer world does not seem to be a wholly friendly one, as is 
indicated by the bitter cry with wliich the new-born child greets its 
new, unaccustomed position. This cry is always more or less a 
painful or impatient act, and, in every case, is caused by outside in- 
fluences. It is the child's first involuntary and unconscious reaction 
against any foreign intervention — its first protest against any attempt 
to treat it as a mere thing. Of course its friends consider this first 
utterance as a sign of life, and receive it with great joy, and con- 
clude from its greater or less power, upon a greater or less vital 
strength. 

But besides the air, there are other imponderable, and even more 
subtle elements of life, which, no doubt, bring their never ceasing 
influences to bear upon the new stranger, such as electricity, mag- 
netism, light. Immediately observable, however, is only that of 
light. The eye of the new-comer is, by this singular phenomenon, 
involuntarily and irresistibly attracted, but also, dazzled by its ex- 
cess, repelled. Particularly jjlain is the attractive power of the 
light, if it reaches the eye of the child in the centre of surround- 
ing darkness ; if it is, so to speak, concentrated into one point, as, for 
example, the light of a candle. Henceforth it is the air and the 
light which exercise the greatest, most decisive, and most extensive 
educational influence upon the child. The former opens not only 
the lungs, and, through them, the voice, but also the ear, that most 
important channel to the child's mind. The latter developes the 
eye, and presents to the child the wonders of the visible world, which 
in return are destined to unfold, and gradually to enlighten the inner 
world of the child. Unhappy the child to whom Nature has inexo- 
rably closed these two doors in such a manner that they never can 



564 MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATION. 

be opened by ligbt and air ! And yet, also, to such, still other doors 
or organs are open, which, at least partially, supply the want of sight 
and hearing. 

However great the power of the outer world may be in its in- 
fluence upon the young child, it is, nevertheless, soon observable, 
that under and through this very influence, the mental power of the 
child becomes stronger every day, until it has gained freedom, con- 
sciousness, and a complete mastery over the influences of the ex- 
ternal world. The eye, at first overpowered and dazzled by the 
light, gradually becomes accustomed, not only to endure it, but to use 
it at pleasure for seeing Henceforth it no longer follows involun- 
tarily the attraction of the strongest light, but it chooses the objects 
which it wishes to see in the light. The hand, at the beginning 
wholly inactive, and afterwards groping insecurely about, learns to 
serve the eye by seizing what the eye beholds. The voice, at first 
nothing but a monotonous, involuntary, irregular cry, commences to 
become the expression of definite desire, by naming what the eye be- 
holds and the hand grasps. Thus come order and harmony into the 
actions of the child. It proves the existence of a soul which gives di- 
rection and aim to the eye, hand and voice, and causes the movements 
of these physical organs to appear at the same time, as activities of 
the soul. From this it follows, as a matter of course, that the devel- 
opment of body and soul ought to progress symmetrically, and should 
never be divided, and that it is almost an impossibility to separate 
it in the first period of development. The growth of the limbs, 
the gradually growing hardness of the bones, as yet still soft, the 
expansion of tire lobes of the lungs, the development of the brain, 
the breaking through of the milk teeth, etc., ai-e all phenomena 
which concern the soul of the child no less than its body. They con- 
dition and attest the mental as well as the physical growth. Partic- 
ularly is this manifest in the gradually increasing activity of the 
senses. The highest senses, i. e., those which are for its highest 
mental development, namely, sight and hearing, are just the ones 
which develop themselves first in the child, and furnish thus for its 
mental development, the first contribution of incalculable importance ; 
while, on the other hand, the lower senses, namely, the senses of 
taste and smell, develop themselves much later, and reach still later 
the necessary freedom. It is, again, the mind of the child which 
causes a quicker development in the senses of sight and hearing, 
because the mind is principally occupied with the activity of these 
senses, and keeps them thus in constant exercise. This fact ex- 



MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF JEDUCATIOX. -^i. 

ODD 

plains clearly why the mental development of a child is slower and 
kept back, if one of the higher senses is wanting ; and also why, in 
consequence of an originally deficient mental receptivity, the devel- 
opment of the perceptive powers progresses slowly and imperfectly, 
as in the case of the so called cretins. 

In proportion as the activity of the senses is developed, the per- 
ceptive powers also grow. The more definite the activities of the 
senses, the more definite and clear are the conceptions of the child. 
Every sense contributes by its activity to the extension, clearness, or 
correction of the conceptions. Extension and correctness in these 
can, therefore, not be gained otherwise than through a constant ex- 
ercise of the senses in correct seeing, hearing, feeling, tasting, and 
smelling, and by the direction of each sense upon the proper objects 
of perception. Every perception made through a sense, exercises 
not only the physical organ as well as the perceiving soul, but leaves 
also in the latter an impress which alone enables the soul to recall, 
that is, to remember, previous perceptions. Without these impres- 
sions or traces retained in the soul, the latter would be incapable of 
renewing within itself former perceptions, or, rather, the feelinf 
attending them. The fact that the repetition by the senses of the 
same observation, and, consequently, of the same perception, facili- 
tates the reproduction of the latter, would be inexplicable without 
this supposition. These impressions or traces, however, must pos- 
sess a certain strength, in order to be lasting and capable of a re- 
production. The proof of this assertion is found in all those per- 
ceptions of the senses w^hich we have made in a state of absence 
of mind. These disappear within us, i. e., they leave no trace upon 
our mind strong enough for reproduction. Whilst, on the other 
hand, all impressions or traces retained in the soul, become strenf^th- 
ened by a repetition of the same perception : hence comes the popular 
idea and expression — " to impress something upon the memory by 
frequent repetition." A conception, however, is nothing else than 
the reception of the characteristics of a perception into the unity of 
consciousness.. This unity of consciousness is mediated by language. 
The importance — the indispensableness of language for the form- 
ation of clear conceptions, and particularly for retaining and re- 
newmg the same, arises from its influence in developing the con- 
sciousness of the child. Thus language appears among the earliest 
means of education. Language is the true cement between the 
soul of the child and everything else which is destined to enter into 
a reciprocal action with it. Language leads the soul of the child out 



566 



MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATION. 



of itself, and makes of the soul an active participant in surround- 
in"- nature, and in the world of man. But language also conducts 
the whole outer world into the inner nature of the child, and makes 
it the inseparable property of the soul. Without language there is no 
distinct conception ; without distinction and clearness of concep- 
tions, there is no durable, solid, lasting seizing and retaining, and, 
therefore, no security and clearness in further application. Thus 
is language in regard to extension, clearness, durability, reliability, 
and,' consequently, for the whole education, and the value of re- 
membrance and power of thinking the first necessary condition. 
With language, the mental life of the child grows visibly. The 
first words which the child stammers with consciousncfs, introduce 
it, in the strict sense of the word, into human society. It is the 
first self-active step with which it passes the barrier of unconscious- 
ness. It is Correggio's exclamation — " I, too, am a painter." The 
child seems to feel this itself. It does not become tired of repeat- 
ing its first-learned word over and over again. And as it has, even 
earlier, heard and understood many words, without, however, being 
able to pronounce them, its linguistic progress goes on with surpris- 
ing rapidity. This progress is such that a child with ordinary abili- 
ties is able to speak its mother-tongue in its second year as well as 
it is needful at this period. What immense progress is gained with 
the mastery of language for the entire mental development of the 
child ! We can speak with it and instruct it by speech. All 
communications, all exhortations, all reprimands, all warnings, — in 
short, all instruction and education is henceforth connected with 
language. Henceforth the whole life of the child is principally a 
life in and with language. It grows with the latter, and we can 
say, " The child (and everybody else) knows just as much as it has 
words to express," with more correctness than " We know only what 
we have in our memory," as we often say. 

From all this we perceive what an important position the per- 
ceptive power occupies, as regards the entire mental development of 
the child. For language is, first of all, the expression of the con- 
ceptions. Without it, feehng and volition would remain undevel- 
oped. The formed conception is the light which gives to feeling 
clearness, and to volition certainty. And, if it must be admitted 
that the proper development of the power of volition (the will) 
and the emotion is to be regarded as the principal aim of all edu- 
cation, yet, after all, it is the power of forming definite conceptions 
upon which the first and greatest care of the educator should be 



MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATIOX. 5(5^ 

bestowed, because without it, volition lacks self-conscious strength, 
and the emotional nature is wanting in quiet clearness. Concep- 
tions (intuition, idea, thought) is the bridge by means of which 
alone the educator can not only penetrate into the inner nature of 
the pupil, but also be able to exercise a truly educating influence. 

Without a properly developed power of forming definite concep- 
tions, the emotions and volition (will) are mere playthings of foreign 
influences, and thus continually in danger of being abused and misled 
by bad, but mentally superior, men. With the proper development 
of this power, on the other hand, grow freedom and independ- 
ence of the will. Only he who knows can be really free. Desire 
receives, after all, its full strength, its true value, i. e., becomes 
free will, Avhen it is enlightened and governed by knowledge. 

The development of the conceptive faculty commences with in- 
tuition (anschauung) which will lead to seJf-intuition, which calls 
forth self -consciousness. Intuition of external objects consists in a 
total apprehension, the limiting and distinguishing of certain outside 
influences w^hich belong together, and which operate simultaneously 
upon our senses. This necessarily leads to the comparison of one 
object with another. Alt^r the child has learned to distinguish sev- 
eral objects from one another, and is conscious of the difference be- 
tween them, the next step is to distinguish its own " self" from the 
objects of the outer world. At first this is done in a similar manner 
as it distinguishes one object from another. This is proved by the 
fact that children at this period speak of themselves in the third per- 
son. But soon after this, the child recognizes in his own self, in 
his whole condition, in his volition and his experiences, no longer an 
extern object, but something internal : it learns to distinguish its 
own " self," not only from all outer objects and phenomena, but it 
confronts the latter as an independent power, i. e., no longer as an 
object, biit as a subject endowed with self-determination. Hence- 
forth the child speaks of itself in ihe Jirst person. This is the dawn 
announcing the rising sun of self-consciousness. As a general thing, 
this glorious conquest of growing development is' gained in the third 
stage of life, or youth. 

The picture or delineation drawn thus far, comprises, no doubt, the 
most interesting, most important, and most remarkable period of life. 
It is interesting, like every beginning of an endless progress, because 
here everything yet lies simple and clear before our eyes, and can, as 
to origin and progress, be observed and pointed out. It is import- 
ant, because in this seemingly insignificant beginning are neverthe- 



568 MAN AS THE SUBJECT Of EDUCATION. 

less included and prepared all further developments and the end. It 
is the fundamental sketch or outline from which nature, in the contin- 
uance of the structure, no more, or very seldom, deviates. It is re- 
markable, because the receptive and reconstructive powers in no 
other period manifest themselves in such an astonishing manner, in 
both the physical and psychological organism. The emotional na- 
ture and the will develop themselves in the child in a similar man- 
ner as the perceptive faculty. Emotions consist originally in the 
sensations produced by impressions upon the senses. We call them 
pleasant if they satisfy our natural appetencies, and unpleasant if 
they do not satisfy them. 

Every sensation of the pleasant or unpleasant presupposes, there- 
fore, an impulse in the child, which announces a want and calls for 
its satisfaction. At the beginning, our impulses and wants are ex- 
tremely simple, calling for little more than life and motion. The 
wants of the child are, therefore, at the beginning, confined to 
the preservation of life and free motion. The most simple means 
answering this purpose, satisfies its appetency, and produces in it 
a sensation of the pleasant. The child, however, does not remain 
in this state. Its appetency and its wants grow daily. The more 
wants the child has, the more willfui it will become. These wants 
are multiplied partly by nature itself, but also, alas ! by a wrong ed- 
ucation, by means of an artificial multiplication of the same. It 
is evident that in this case it is more difficult to satisfy the child, and 
that it must often have unpleasant perceptions, which again in turn 
excite its opposition, and thus may result in moroseness, willfulness, 
and obstinacy. 

It is, therefore, the duty of the educator to confine these wants, as 
much as possible, within the bounds set by nature, but also to satisfy 
them, if they are within these bounds, in order to preserve in the 
child a pure feeling of that which answers best the real demands 
of nature. By an unnatural increase cf wants, as Avtll as by arbi- 
trary denial of the real needs of the child, impulse and emotion be- 
come perverted, education is made more difficult, and the moral de- 
velopment of the child takes a wrong direction. 

The more difficult period of life is, however, the now following 
second period of childhood, the boyhood or girlhood. 

Henceforth the newly inaugurated contact with the outer world is 
e:itended to an unlimited degree. Hardly is the child able, in the 
crowd of impressions which rush in upon it every moment, to retain 
his balance, and to keep united the exterior with his interior world 



MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATION. ^gg 

by means of speech. However, with the increase of these impres- 
sions, grows also its strength to receive and to retain them. With 
a thousand feelers the soul of the child reaches out in the world. 
Like a bee it flies from flower to flower, and rocks itself in the 
unbounded atmosphere of perception, feeling, and desire. There 
commences a contest, as it were, a struggle of the soul of the child 
with the outer world. Every impression presenting itself is re- 
ceived, but not every one becomes the property of the child's soul. 
Those impressions which are not completely mastered by the soul 
of the child, disappear again, either without leaving a track behind, 
or — and this is most likely the case — they affect unconsciously the 
perceptive flicuUy, the direction of the will, and the emotions, 
whether for gain or loss. From this it follows, how important it is 
that the impressions made at this period by the surroundings of 
the child upon the latter, should be closely watched and controled. 

The external weapons of the child in this contest, are the senses. 
Its internal weapons arc, the faculties of perception and of forming 
conceptions, t!ie memory, and the power of abstraction. The latter, 
as well as the former, become stronger by such unceasing exercise. 

It is of the highest importance that tlie child learn to make a 
proper use of its senses^ 2)articularly of sight, hearing, and feeling. 
Yet more important is it, that the child is kept in constant practice 
in proper attention, observation, distinguishing, and comparing. The 
child still lives in this period, principally in sensual perception 
(Anschauung.) Real, individual objects (the concrete), form as yet 
the child's world. But the impressions offered by the external world 
always change their form more and more, as the mind of the child 
reflects upon them ; they are, by means of the imagination, repro- 
duced, partly true to nature, partly in new fantastic combinations. 
Therefore the predilection, in this age, for stories, (particularly 
Maehrchen,) the pleasure in pictures, especially in such as leave 
much scope for imagination ; therefore the great inclination to such 
plays as are a dramatic imitation of domestic and social relations, 
and occupy, at the same time, the imagination. Recall in your 
mind, the plays of girls with their dolls, and those of the boys with 
their soldiers. But the powers of the child become gradually 
stronger. In the activity of the soul, choice comes more and more, 
and finally freedom. All attainments and efforts become more con- 
scious, more independent of the exterior world, or use the latter as a 
means. The impulse to action, which, at the beginning, was mere 
desire for mechanical imitation, becomes the desire for attainments 



gYO MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATION. 

which may govern the objects of the external world. It is also here, 
again, the power of perception which exercises a predominating 
influence upon the whole mental progress, relatively upon the free- 
dom of the mind from the bondage of the external world. After the 
child has had sufficient practice in the apprehension of such pictures 
of the exterior world as are perceivable by the senses, i. e., in u con- 
scious exercise of the faculty of forming sensuous perceptions, tlien 
again in the repetition, combination, and comparison of the same, 
by means of the imagination, in view of certain considerations, then 
the next step is, the separation of the essential from the accidental 
qualities of an object, and the collection of the former into the 
unity of consciousness, i. e., the formation of ideas. "With this, the 
child enters a new world, in which it is, as a thinking being, destined 
to become always more at home, ^. e., the world of ideas. Hence- 
forth it looks at the objects of the exterior world differently. It 
looks not only at the single individual object, which influences di- 
rectly its senses, it embraces a vast number of similar objects, and 
combines these many individualities into one whole. The idea 
formed thus (based, it is true, upon intuition — sensual perception 
Anschauung — but being itself no intuition, but a pure act of think- 
ing) is collected into the unity of a "• word," by which it recognises 
the whole as its mental property. It is evident, that by this mental 
activity, the foundation is laid for the government of the mind over 
the exterior world. The proud word put under Linnaeus' picture — 
" Deus creavit, Linnceus disposuit," is, in this sense, true of every 
man awakened to independent thought. But also the language of 
the child has, by this mental process, gained new strength and new 
copiousness. Just so long as it was limited to the domain of con- 
crete perceptions, it was necessarily poor, for it was completely de- 
pendent upon the direct intuition of the senses. It was only able to 
name what the child had seen, heard, felt, smelt, or tasted. For 
more than that, indeed, the child had no occasion. It had enough 
to do, to find its way within this circle, and to impress upon its mind 
the lessons in language which it received from its surroundings. 
But now the child is upon a higher standing point, from which it 
overlooks a more extended circle. It systematizes its knowledge ac- 
cording to a law which lies within itself. It increases and extends its 
language as well as its ideas, from within. It no longer takes lessons 
in language simply from the external world, but it is its own teacher, 
{. e., it forms ideas spontaneously and devises words by which to 
express them. It speaks and thinks in ideas which, from the most 



MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATION. g'j-^ 

simple abstractions, always ascend to higher ones, and which in- 
crease their contents by analysis, and tlieir compass by synthesis. 

It is self-evident that the progress described thus far could take 
place in this manner only in tlie beginning, ^. e., in the very first de- 
velopment of human language at large. The child in our days finds 
an already developed language. Its earliest and greatest task is only 
to familiarize itself with the same, in a manner that it becomes its 
native or mother tongue in the strictest sense of the word. That is, 
that it becomes the source of its ideas, and the means of its mental 
clearness. It cannot do, and need not to do much for this purpose. 
It finds every thing prepared, and it becomes accustomed to give 
to its ideas the same names as those do who surround it. Most 
names for higher classes of ideas the child hears earlier than it 
is able to find their true meaning in a synthetical manner. It hears 
and retains, for instance, much earlier the name "/ree" than '■'^ apple 
tree" or any particular kind of apple tree. Therefore, in order that 
the child may always become more and more conscious of the con- 
tents of its ideas, i. e., obtain perfect clearness, it has to proceed 
analytically (from the general to the specific) rather than syntheti- 
cally. In the main points, however, the progress of development 
of the conceptions, the comprehension, and the language of the child, 
is also, in our time, similar to the original one, described above, with 
the only diflnerence, however, that the language already developed 
facilitates and accelerates the formation and fixation of his ideas. 
This must be so, as the whole process is based upon general psy- 
chological principles. The mental progress of the child consists, 
therefore, in this : " The child gains gradually in clearness of its 
ideas in the same ratio as it grows in copiousness of language." Its 
thought and language become continually more clear, self-conscious, 
and correct. The ideas received from others, imitated, or formed by 
its own self-activity, will always more and more become its mental 
property. It systematizes, connects, and enriches the same from day 
to day. It is, however, even yet observable in our time, how tal- 
ented children, in such cases, Avhen either their native language is 
sometimes not immediately at their command, or words are want- 
ing for certain ideas, will complete the latter by words of their own 
creation, very often in an ingenious manner, and mostly in harmony 
with the spirit of their native language. This always steadily in- 
creasing wealth of materials for a knowledge of the world and 
nature, leads finally to the seeking and discovery of those general 
laws which are the basis of the phenomena of all natural things. 



572 ^^-"^^ ^^S THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATIOX. 

By this, the mental government of man over the exterior world be- 
comes complete. That which, at the beginning, as an overpowering 
chaos confused and almost crushed the childish soul, that which was 
afterwards perceived only in detail, and later yet, systematized and 
brought into order and comprehension — all this is now subjected to 
the government of general law, and thus the seemingly boundless 
arbitrariness of everything existing is reduced to severe necessity. 
Now the youthful mind commences to watch the secret laboratory of 
the Creator, and to anticipate the union of freedom and necessity in 
the highest spirit, guided by his visible revelation. Also, here the 
perception (apprehension, recognition, knowledge) plays the most 
important part, which exercises the greatest intiuence upon feeling 
and the will, in regard to excitation, as well as in regard to the 
proper guidance and strengthening of the same. For, if the percep- 
tions are predominatingly sensuous and concrete, nothing but a se7isu- 
ous feeling and desire can be expected. When, in the imagination, 
the idea predominates, feeling and desire become rational and self- 
conscious. Our feeling and desire becomes rational if the perceptive 
powers have reached the point where the insight of the conformity 
to law of everything existing is gained, where reason induces man 
to look at everything in the light of higher general laws, and where 
man is capable of recognizing the harmony of the exterior world 
with the spirit. 

If we are to distinguish and to name the principal periods of the 
development of the mind of man, upon the basis of the description 
given of it thus far, it is, above all things, clear, that the develop- 
ment of the human mind progresses from the simple to the com- 
pound, from the specijic to the general, from the concrete to the 
abstract, from the perception to the idea, from the phenomenon to the 
law But, as this very progress has its principal type in conception, 
as was proved, the characteristics of the several periods of develop- 
ment will have to borrow their designations principally from this 
aspect of the development of mind. 

If we keep in mind the earliest and latest state of mental devel- 
opment {i. e., greatest want of freedom, and dependence on every 
external impression, on the one hand, and greatest freedom, and 
mastery over the outer and inner world conformably to self-discovered 
laws, on the other hand), three stages or epochs present themselves 
at once, corresponding with the childhood, the boyhood, and the age 
of youth. 

The first stage (childhood) is the one in which man is yet entirely 



MAN AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATION'. 573 

under the dominating influence of the external world, and of the 
charms of the senses. Perception, desire, and feeling are in this 
period overrulingly sensuous. The perception manifests its activity 
in the formation of sensual intuitions {Anschauungen,) and in re- 
producing and combining the same {Einbildungslraft). Anything 
not foiling within the circle of the senses, is, for the child, either 
not existing at all, or it is only approximatively accessible, by means 
of sensible illustrations (figures, stories, parables, allegories, etc.). 
The sensation of the pleasant and the unpleasant is, in this period 
again, determined by sensible impressions. It is thus principally 
the sensuously pleasant or unpleasant that produces in the child the 
feeling of pain or pleasure. 

In a similar manner are the desires of the child, in this period, 
directed principally upon sensual things and activities. What is 
pleasant for its senses, that it wishes to possess or to carry out ; what 
is for them unpleasant or in opposition, that is avoided and detested. 
It is, however, with all this, not to be denied — for it is of great im- 
portance that it should be understood and acknowledged — that there 
are within the child already, in this period, other inclinations and zm- 
pnlses of not purely sensuous nature, which exercise a great in- 
intluence upon the development and direction of the mental life. 
Particularly should be mentioned here, the love for parents and other 
persons from which the child receives acts of kindness. It is true, 
at the beginning, it has also a sensuous element ; but soon a higher 
nature is observable, which might even make the child capable of 
sacrifice for those which are the object of its tender love. It is the 
sunbeam of an inner life which attests the higher origin of the soul 
of man. It contains heavenly light and fertilizing warmth for the life 
of feeling, and is thus, for education, of incomparable value. 

Another impulse of a higher nature is the conscience, which awak- 
ens also in this period. For it is not something that is made, formed, 
or acquired ; but it is likewise a necessary product of the peculiar 
powers of the mind of man. Conscience is an involuntary direct 
perception, that an exertion, a desire, an action, is in harmony or 
in discord with that which has been recognized as corresponding 
with a natural law of our spiritual nature, and which has, there- 
fore, been recognized as being good and praisewortliy. It is thus an 
interior monition which makes the one who has done right feel that 
he is in harmony with himself; and the one who has done wrong, 
feels, in consequence of it, that he is in hostility with himself. The 
first beginnings or intonations of conscience correspond, as a matter 
of course, as yet with the mental dependency of the child. It is not 



gY4 M^^ AS THE SUBJECT OF EDUCATION. 

yet conscious of the conflict in its own breast. The judgments of 
others — of its parents — are as yet its law. Thus far it has not been 
disquieted by discord with itself, but with its leaders, and the models 
placed before it for imitation. Its morel centre of gravity lies yet 
beyond itself. The authority of its parents is yet acknowledged, an 
authority afterwards assumed by its conscience, as the voice of an 
invisible judge. The involuntary inner monition, that its actions 
are not in harmony with the will and the laws of its parents, dis- 
quiets its conscience. But even here, the external leads by degrees 
to the internal. The place of the parental will will be assumed by 
the law slumbering within itself, awakened by the voice from with- 
out. With the awakening of its self-consciousness, the child will 
always understand more clearly that, by a violation of its inner 
moral feeling (law), it comes not only into an unhappy conflict with 
external authorities (such as parents, etc.), but also with itself, i. e., 
Avith its own moral being, which is destined to imitate the Divine. 

It is self-evident, how highly important the strengthening and 
proper guidance of this consciousness of right must be for education, 
as it contains, at the same time, for every man, the only secure, 
direct restoration of the harmony between virtue and hapi)iness. 

The second stage of development, corresponding with boyhood 
(commencing with about the seventh year), strips off gradually the 
shackles which were put on the child by external impressions, and 
brings the always growing spiritual strength into a certain equilib- 
rium with the external world. It is, then, the stage of development 
of the awakening understanding which opposes the external jiower 
of sensuous impressions with the internal power of comprehension 
and the sense of order. The exterior world is the material out of 
w^hich the boy forms more and more self-actively his own world of 
ideas. He is, indeed, borne and carried on by the powerful stream 
of sensuous impressions, but he no longer follows this outer attrac- 
tion without a will of his own, but only gradually, like a skillful 
swimmer, who uses the waves as a bridge, in order to reach his 
self-selected aim. It is consequently the idea which presents in this 
period the most important force involved in the mental development. 
It is the idea which ripens the perceptive powers, and elevates the 
activity of the will to Avell considered, cautious decision. 

The third period of mental development (the age of youth, be- 
ginning with about the fifteenth year) generalizes the idea, investi- 
gates everywhere the conformity to underlying law, and recognizes 
the law itself, i. e., it is the stage of rational thinking (rationallty- 
Vernunfterkenntniss). Arrived thus far, man becomes capable of 



MAN AS TUB SUBJECT OF EDUCATIOX. 



575 



subordinating also his Avill to the control of reason. Man elevates 
himself in this period upon a standing point from which he holds free 
sway over the exterior world. This is done partly by the idea 
(Vernunftbegriff), partly by the ideal {Vernunftbild). The fun- 
damental power of the former is reason, i. e., the percejJtion of those 
general and fundamental laws underlying the phenomena. The fun- 
damental power of the latter is fancy {Phantasie), i. e., the power 
to represent the general rational ideas ( Vernunftbegriff) in intui- 
tive (anschavlich) pictures. This stage of development is, there- 
fore, the period of reason and fancy (^Phantasie) . The youth en- 
deavors to answer the questions as to the first cause of all things — 
the " Whence ?" the " Whither ?" and the " Wherefore ?" He at- 
tempts to answer them either by syllogisms or through the ideal. 
The syllogism causes conviction ; the ideal, direct satisfaction, and 
consequently, contentment. The former gives to the will instruction 
how to reach an aim ; the latter directly shows it the aim itself. 
It is, therefore, no matter of surprise that the ideal inspires and 
inflames the soul directly to actions, while, on the other hand, the 
idea alone leaves it cold, by instructing it only about truth, i. e., 
about the harmony of a conception with the general laws of think- 
ing, as they are deeply rooted in the thinking subject. 

The ideal is the field for art. This period of development is, 
therefore, principally, also the art age, i. e., the period of the great- 
est susceptibility and inspiration for art and its productions, which is 
particularly manifested in the love of youth for poetry. 

All these characteristics of the three principal periods of mental 
development go on with corresponding changes in the physical de- 
velopment. 

The physical characteristic of the first period shows itself in the 
extraordinary growth of the child, and in its bodily dependence on its 
mother. The growth of the body is, in childhood, the most marked. 
The child which, at its birth, measures about eighteen inches, and 
has a weight, on the average, of eight pounds, reaches, at the end of 
childhood (seven years), more than double the length (about forty- ' 
two inches), and moreover five times its original weight ; out of which 
follows, that the functions of digestion are predominatingly active at 
this period. It is a continual receiving and assimilation of nutritious 
matter, which is, in this period, predominant among all the bodily func- 
tions. The dependence on the mother is manifested by the fact, that 
the baby receives its food at the breast of the mother, by whom its 
life also was wholly supported as a foetus. Gradually, it is true, it 
frees itself from this source of food, and its dependence on the 



576 MAN AS THE SUBJECT OP EDUCATION. 

mother gradually decreases. It is, however, nevertheless an unde- 
niable faict, that the physical and mental prosperity, the whole char- 
acter of the child through the whole childhood, is principally depend- 
ent on the mother, and is in a prosperous or languishing condition, 
according as this support is good or bad. In this fact lies the ex- 
traordinai'y educational influence of the mother upon children, which 
cannot be supplied by any other influence. 

The characterictics of the physical development in this period are 
thus similar to those in the mental development, namely : a predom- 
inating receiving and appropriating of materials from without, un- 
der the preponderating influence of the exterior world. 

In the second period, the body reaches or attains a certain sym- 
metry in its proportions, and that solidity in the osseous system 
which enables the boy to resist the exterior world, and fits him for 
exertion in manual labor. The appearance of stronger teeth indi- 
cates a gradually growing equilibrium between external influences 
and the reaction on the side of the young body, as far as they pre- 
pare the body for receiving more solid food, particularly animal food. 
In the same proportion as the soul takes the external world to itself, 
and it forms also its physical organ, i. e., the body, out of the most 
different nutritious matters. Muscles and bones attain almost their 
permanent proportions. The brain ceases to groAv. The physiog- 
nomy receives its permanent form. The body, however, possesses 
thus far not yet that freedom and ripeness which fits it for power- 
ful action upon the exterior world. The powers of generation are 
yet slumbering. A certain immaturity is as yet in all parts of the 
body. The latter is, so to speak, as yet a closed bud that will 
burst open in the third period, in the age of youth. Breast and 
pelvis, as well as the organs of breathing, and the sexual organs, 
develop themselves perfectly, and often with such rapidity that great 
caution is needed in order to prevent their development from be- 
coming injurious to the life of the whole organism. It is, therefore, 
often the case, that just at this period is sown the germ of diseases 
of the lungs. The devolopment of the larynx, also, the features be- 
coming more defined, the appearance of the beard and body hairs, 
and of the last molar or wisdom tooth, all announce the attainment 
of the full size and that strength which gives the self-conscious 
power to act upon the outer world for human purposes and to the 
full measure of human accomplishment, although the greatest perse- 
verance in exertions depending upon longer exercise, experience, 
absence of passion, and discretion, is, as a general thing, the property 
of a later period in life, i. e., of manhood. 



DR. GRASER'S COURSE OF INSTRUCTION 

IN THE 

COMMON SCHOOLS OF BAYREt'TH, IN BAVARIA. 



Dr. Graser of Bayreuth, has developed a system of instruction, the 
principles of which he claims, are founded in the nature and purposes 
of education, and of man as its recipient. This system has been intro- 
duced into the common schools of his native place, and has attracted 
much attention from a class of teachers in Germany. Dr. Bache gives 
the following sketch of its general principles, and of its development in 
one of the common schools of Bayreuth: 

After considering the constitution of man, Dr. Graser lays down the 
principle, that he is destined to live in accordance with it, and in the pur- 
suit of hohness, (godliness, divinitat.) The child must be educated in 
reference to this destination. Man requires strength of body, hence 
physical education, and of soul (virtue,) hence moral education. His 
bodily strength must be rendered available by dexterity, his virtue by 
prudence. Both must be directed by intelligence, hence intellectual 
education. Besides, he must have a just sense of the harmony in the 
relations of life, or a feeling of fitness, or beauty, hence aesthetical edu- 
cation. As a condition of his being, man stands in certain relations 
to external nature, to his fellow men, and to God. Instruction in 
nature, man, and God. must, therefore, form the materials of his 
education. Nature must be viewed in its productions, the objects of 
aatural history, or its phenomena, the objects of natural philosophy, 
or physics. To complete the study of nature, geography, arithmetic, 
geometry, and its applications, and drawing, must be called in, and 
the practical application of the study includes technology and do- 
mestic economy. The study of man requires that of the theory of gym- 
nastics, dietetics, history, and geography. To approach to God. man 
must know him. The first form of godliness is truth. God's truth, then, 
as revealed, should be man's study. The second form is justice; juris- 
prudence in higher education, or the laws of the land inpower, should, 
therefore, also form a part of man's studies, and as acces.^ory subjects, 
history and grammar. The third is love, taught through morals or 
practical religion. The fourth is beauty, requiring the study of paint- 
ing, music, poetry, and decorum. Dr. Graser next endeavors to modify 
the several subjects of education, according to the special wants of those 
who are to receive it, which he considers to depend upon their political 
situation. Thus, for his country, he divides men into three classes, the 
people, or governed; the nobles; and the reigning family, or governors. 
The first he considers as more concerned with material objects, the 
others with the ideal, or spiritual, and hence adopts two divisions of tba 
subjects of study, as calculated for their schools. 



578 . GRASER'S SYSTEM OF INSTRUCTION. 

In the arrangement of instruction, his principle, that the school must 
prepare for actual Ufe, is brought into play. He admits no separation 
into branches of study, no natural order of succession in the branches, 
but insists that all instruction shall be grouped according to the wants 
of some particular mode of life. Taking society as the state of man's 
existence, he begins instruction with the paternal mansion of the child 
and his family relations, and attaches to these all the elementary know- 
ledge of morals, manners, speech, number, form, objects, drawing, and 
writing, which would be found necessary in this sphere. He next 
widens the sphere to include the place of residence, with its community; 
extends it to the circle or judicial district, to the province, to the country, 
to the assemblage of the German states, the division of the earth, the 
entire earth, the universe. 

The application of Graser's principles to a common school will be 
best understood by following up the course of instruction as far as it has 
been developed in one of the schools of Bayreuth. 

The sixth, or lowest class, is instructed in what relates to family life. The 
exterior of the house. Its interior. Its inhabitants. Their wants. 

The classification followed in Wiirst's reading book will show, generally, the 
way in which these subjects are taught. 

1. The paternal mansion, considered as the dwelling place of the family. Houses and huts. 
Stones and lime. (Storjr of an accident from playing with lime.) The walls and the roof. 
Doors and windows. (History of the discovery of glass.) Earth,fire, water, and light. Compari- 
son of building materials. Gloom, darkness, light, shadow. Property. Owner. Rectitude. 
Goodness. Decorum. Politeness. (Story of the polite and the rude boy.) Pilfering. Theft. 
Robbery. Robbers. 2. The inmates of the hou.se. Enumeration of them. Exterior dis- 
tinctions between the men and animals. Distinctive qualities of the different domestic ani- 
mals. The poultry. Further distinctions between men and animals. Voice. Speech as a 
characteristic of man. Power of induction. Moral order of the family. (The intractable 
child) U.ses of the domestic animals, obligations toward them. (Tormentors of animals.) 
Noxious domestic animals. Conduct toward them. Flies. Spiders. Review of conduct 
toward animals in general. 3. Wants of the inmates of the house. The dwelling itself. 
Furniture and clothing. Arrangements for their preservation. Inviolability of the property 
of children and servants. Activity and offices of parents. Duties of children toward their 
parents. 

This course is commenced between si.x and seven years of age, and occupies 
about si.x months. I shall go into some particulars in regard to parts of the in- 
struction. 1. The dwelling-house. The teacher shows a model of a simple 
dwelling-house, of which the gable end may be removed, and is a rectangular 
block, surmounted by a triangle. The teacher takes off the triangle, and counts 
the number of its sides audibly ; this part of the house has how many sides ? is 
his question. Three. He shows that it has also three corners, or asks how 
many corners, leaving to the more intelligent pupils to lead the class in the an- 
swer, and when the answer is obtained, causing it to be repeated by all. Watch- 
ing the class, if he finds inattention, he addresses the question where it prevails, 
giving the pupils as much as possible to find out, in order to keep up their atten- 
tion as long as their physical constitution will permit. A change of subject, phys- 
ical exercise, or rest, should be allowed when the attention is exhausted, the 
habit of which may be gradually established by training. This inductive course, 
combined with repetition, is always employed, and in what follows I shall merely 
indicate the order of the instruction. The figure in question is three-cornered. 
Interior corners are called angles.* It is a three angled figure, and called a tri- 
angle. Next, the four-sided figure is similarly treated. Tlien the triangular cap 
is set upon the rectangle, forming a five-sided figure. This part of the model is 
now placed before the children to draw upon the slate, with the following pre- 
liminary instruction. Each group of three or four children, or, if convenient, 

* In German, the space formed by the meeting of two lines viewed from the interior, of 
from the exterior, has different names, and the compoundsof these, with the numerals thres 
four, live, &c., constitute the names of the figures, as drey-eck, vier-eck, &c. 



IN THE COMMON SCHOOLS OF BAYREUTH, IN BAVARIA. 5*79 

each child, is furnished with a rectangle of pasteboard, or thin wood, in which 
five holes are pierced, corresponding to the five angular points of the pentagon to 
be drawn. These are marked on the slate by inserting the points of the pencil 
through the holes, and the child is practiced in joining the points by hand. Prac- 
tice in this constitutes his first drawing lesson. Returning to the rectangular part 
of the model, the positions of the vertical and horizontal boundary lines are 
pointed out, and a plummet and common mason's level are shown, to give a 
notion how these lines are established in practice, and a correct idea of their 
actual positions. Attention is next called to the horizontal side of the triangular 
cap, then to the sloping sides. A comparison of the angles which they form with 
the horizon, and that formed by the horizontal and vertical lines, leads to the dis- 
tinction between acute and right angles. The objects of a triangular roof, and 
of the rectangular lower part of the house, are next stated. An obtuse angled 
polygonal roof is substituted for the one already mentioned. The form gives an 
illustration of the obtuse angle, placing it upon the model leads to counting as far 
as seven Dividing the house into stories by lines, to counting to nine. Tlie 
children are next led to enumerate the parts of the house as shown in the model, 
and with the names of which they are of course familiar, as the doors, windows, 
&c. The distinction between squares and rectangles is made obvious. The 
parallelogram and rhomb are also here introduced. The distinction between 
curved and straight lines, &c. Different simple drawings of cottages are made. 
Counting is continued to ten. Addition is commenced by referring to the number 
of panes in the windows of the model, covering up those not to be added, and 
proceeding from smaller to larger numbers, within the limits of ten. These are 
extended to one hundred, stating to the children the mode of formation of com- 
pound numbers, to assist their memory. Subtraction is introduced by reference 
to the same illustrations. Mental arithmetic alone is practiced. In adding num- 
bers which exceed ten, the tens are first added, then the units, carrying to the 
tens, if necessary ; thus, in adding twenty-two and thirly-nine together, their 
process would be, twenty-two is two tens and two ones ; thirty-nine, three tens 
and nine ones ; two tens and three tens are five tens ; two ones and nine ones are 
eleven ones, or one ten and one one ; five tens and one ten are six tens, and one, 
sixty-one. Multiplication is begun also by a reference to the window-panes, 
which afford, usually, many combinations. Division is similarly treated, the 
question being such as the children would take an interest in solving, and their 
coins are early explained to them, and made the subjects of their exercises. Frac- 
tions grow naturally from division. The foregoing instruction is interspersed with 
other matters yet to be described. 

In fact, there is no fixed order of exercise, or school plan, according to Graser's 
method, but the teacher is relied upon to advance the different parts of the instruc- 
tion duly, according to his observation of the progress of the class. 

The elements of physics, natural history, technology, and domestic economy, are 
thus introduced, it being understood that the same mixed method of question and 
answer, and of direct and inductive teaching, is used throughout. Men did not 
always live in houses, but once in caves and huts. The inconveniences of such 
places from cold, damp, «&c., are pointed out. The materials required for a house, 
as stone, mortar, wood, iron, &c. Most of the children have seen the operation 
of building, and can tell the materials required ; those who have not observed, 
will probably not let an opportunity pass afterward of so doing. Whence the 
stone is procured, quarries, quarrymen. The hewing of stone. Limestone and 
lime ; the objects being presented to them. Tlie conversion of the limestone into 
lime. The slaking of lime, making of mortar, its hardening, laying the stones. 
Digging of the trench for the foundations, &c. 

Next the wood is taken for the subject of a lesson. The distinction of wood 
from fruit-trees and forest trees is shown. Shaping of the wood by sawing. 
Beams. Planks. Boards. Laths. Trade of house carpenter. Of joiner, &e. 
In the same way iron is treated of. Bricks and tiles. Glass. 

In recapitulating these matters, or in presenting new ones, the elements of 
grammar are begun. The nouns and adjectives are easily distinguished from the 
other parts of speech by the induction of the pupils themselves, when directed in 
the right way. 

Used as incidental matters of instruction, but not as forming its ground work, 



580 GRASERS SYSTEM OF INSTRUCTION 

it appears to me that the foregoing subjects are of value, and that useful hints 
may be gathered from the way of treating them ; hence, I am led to remark upon 
certain sources of difficulty in their execution. The instruction may be rendered 
wholly ineffective by the teacher treating the subject in a mechanical way, so that 
what is intended to excite the observing and reflecting faculties, especially the 
former, shall become a mere memory of words. It may be rendered actually 
mischievous by the teacher inculcating erroneous ideas of natural phenomena 
and natural history. The teacher's guide should be prepared with care, and 
revised by adepts in the sciences, to avoid such mischief, which I have known to 
occur in many cases.* 

Elementary ideas of right and wrong, of goodness, of " fitness," (" the beauti- 
ful,'') are inculcated in the following way : The dwelling being still under discus- 
sion, the attention is called to the parts of the door, its lock, &q. The object of 
the door and its fastenings. Who may rightfully enter a house. The right to 
put out those entering wi'ongfully. A story is told here of a poor child begging 
for admission to a house during a storm, cold, hungiy, and ill clothed. The child 
is received and supplied. The moral is drawn from the children, and benevo- 
lence, love to man, is inculcated. In entering a strange house or room, leave 
must be asked. The contrast of good and bad manners in making or answering 
the request is brought home to the children. The subject is next followed up by 
supposing an unlawful entry made into the dwelling, and the difference between 
theft and burglary, or stealing and robbing, is brought out. The smallest possible 
theft of any kind, or pilfering, is immoral. A story is told to illustrate the tate 
of the pilferer. 

Next the inmates of the house and out-houses form subjects of instruction, the 
mode of treating which will easily be conceived by referring again to the general 
enumeration of the arrangement of the subjects. Exercises of speech and thought, 
natural history of domestic animals, and much elementary technological informa- 
tion, are thus introdu(?ed. Proverbs are committed to memory, inculcating moral 
lessons or duties. 

The next head furnishes an opportunity to examine the wants of the inmates 
of the house, the topography of the dwelling and its grounds, as introductory to 
geography, the construction and uses of the furniture in continuation of tuchno- 
'i0g\', and to introduce the drawing of simple articles of furniture. Speech is 
considered as the means of communicating between the members of a family. 
Other modes of communicating ideas by signs and gestures are adverted to. The 
sight may be addressed tlii'ough pictures as substitutes for verbal descriptions 
addressed to the ear. Hieroglyphics or signs may be substituted for pictures. 
Trials of these are resorted to, as, for example, the curve of the fore-finger and 
thumb forming a C, may be imitated on the slate, and understood to stand for 
" come here." A number of signs, having reference to letters subsequently to 
be formed, and to their actual use in the spelling of words, are taught to the chil- 
dren, who at first are delighted with these acquisitions, but after a time find the 
accumulation of signs very troublesome. This is supposed to prepare the way 
for a zeal in acquiring writing and reading. To connect the written with the 
spoken language, Dr. Graser goes back to the origin of the former, and imagines 
that the forms of the letters result, in general, from an attempt to imitate the 
position of the lips, or lips and tongue, in sounding the component parts of a word. 
This requires a difficult and in many cases a most fancifulf connection to be 
formed in the mind of the pupil between the sound and its sign. Four different 

■ To show that this is not imaginary, I may mention that, in a school where the subject of 
the caustic nature of lime, and of its healing durinj slaking, were under examination, they 
were explained thus: the limestone was turned into lime by heat, in which process it ab- 
sorbed a great deal of heat, which made it burning, or caustic ; when water is thrown upon 
it, the water unites with the lime, and this heat escapes. 

t I have called this fanciful, for so it appears to me, but speak in no spirit of disrespect. 
This method is connected, in Dr. Graser's school, with the instruction of the deaf and dumb 
with other children. The maxim prevailing in the principal schools of Germany for the 
instruction of the deaf and dumb is, that they must be restored to society by enabling them to 
understand speech and to speak. Hence the first attempt is to make thtm understand the 
motions of the organs of speech, and to imitate ihem. forcing air through them so as to pro- 
duce the sounds. The perseverance and zeal expended in attempting to carry out this idea 
are almo.st incredible. In some of the institutions for deaf mutes much of the instruction ia 
actually communicated through the means of speech. 



IN THE COMMON SCHOOLS OF BEYREDTH, IN BAVARIA. 581 

series of lines are ruled by the pupils up<>n the slates, on which they write ; one 
is a set of two parallels for the standard letters ; another of three parallels for the 
lettei-s which project above the standard lines, the interval between the upper 
two being less than that between the lower ; another set, also of throe parallels, 
for the letters which extend below, and a fourth for those which extend in both 
directions. Words are formed as soon as possible, and, of a kind intelligible to 
the child, and sentences of the same character. I doubt much if the pupil re- 
ceives any real aid from the connection assumed between sounds and signs. The 
determinate sound of the letters in the German renders the spelling easy, when 
the true sound and the signs of the letters have been connected in the memory.* 
The previous practice of drawing has prepared the hand, so that there is a re- 
markable facility in requiring the manual part of writing. The selection of intel- 
ligible sentences carries out the habit of understanding every thing as it is brought 
forward. Reading the written hand soon becomes familiar, and the transition to 
the printed letters is easy. In all this instruction the blackboard is used for 
illustrating the lessons. Elementary principles of grammar are inculcated in con- 
nection with the writing and reading. 

In the next class, occupying also six months, the instruction is connected with 
" life in the community." This includes the political organization of the commu- 
nity, with the reasons for it ; the geography of the place ; the continuation of the 
exercises of thought and speech ; the commencement of Bible history ; an exten- 
sion of instruction in morals, technology, and natural history ; of the elements of 
form ; of grammar ; of drawing and writing ; so at least they would be called in 
the other schools. The plan of arrangement is as follows : 

Life in the community. History of the formation of communities, with their wants an J 
obligations. Original existence of man. Union of several families. Fatal accidents in com- 
munities. Necessity of mutual aid in misfortune. Necessity of a magistracy. Arrangements 
for safety. Taxes. Laws and punishments. Wants of the community. Roads, bridges, 
&c. Watchmen. Servants. Council-house. School-house. 

2. In KEFERiiNCE TO MAN. The five senses. Their abuse expq^es to punishment. In- 
foi-mation in regard to the organs of sense. Their injury or deficiency. Their preservation 
and exercise. The mind. Perception not retjuired for thought, or for distinguishing the 
true from the fal.se, the good from the evil. She soul. Man has reason and wilL Stories of 
good actions. The good is not always rewarded in this world, but there is a God. 

3 Relation op man to G^d. Attributes of the Deitv. God is the creator, the supporter, 
the governor of the world, the father of all men, the high and rigliteons judge, a spirit Du- 
ties to God. Honor, love as of a child, trust, thankfulnes.s, reverence. Constant remem- 
brance of God. Conscience. Stories related. The evil conscience. Conscience makes a 
man anxious and uneasy when he does wrong. The moral to be inculcated is, that man has 
within him a monitor which warns hm against doing evil. Stoi-y of a pleasant evenin". 
There is also approval within one's self of good deeds. Nece,«sity of a revelation to man! 
Stories from the Scriptures related. The creation. Cain and Abel. The deluge. Those 
saved. The prophets. Expectation and coming of the Messiah. The three wise men. The 
child Jesus. John. Jesus the teacher, saviour, and founder of the kingdom of godliness. 

4. RELATioi>t OF MAN TO NATURE. The native place and its environs. Thevillage as the 
dwelling of the community. The cardinal points. Position of the buildings Streets. 
Roads. Springs. Storiesof the village. Review of the position of the village. Naturalhis^ 
tory. Beauties of nature. First walk in the garden. Fruit trees, shrubs, herbs, flowers. 
The fields, hills, valleys, woods, and forests. Morning ramble in the woods. Morning song. 
Insects. Stories of cruelty to insects. Natural philosophy. Heat. The sun. Sunrise! 
Song. Division of time. The calendar. Vapor. Storms. Thunder and lightning. Rules 
for protection: 

6. Relation of man to societv. Age and youth. Infirm persons. The able bodied 
and the sick Duties toward and protection of the sick. Employments. Laborers and 
tradesmen. Peacefulness. Willingness in service. Uprighteousness. Respectfulness. Dis- 
position to work. Poverty and riches. Contentment. 

The same elements of instruction are, in the next class, grouped about the ne.xt 
political division, the circle, the course occupying, as before, six months. Begin- 
ning here, the division restricts some portions of instruction unnecessarily. In 
general, however, I was satisfied with the progress of this class. I had no oppor- 
tunity of judging of the results of the following division, namely, "life in the pro- 
vince," no class being in that stage of progress. 

In the next following, or " life in the kingdom," the political circimistances 
became too abstruse for the intellectual development of the children, and the 
attempts at induction in regard to the government failed almost entirely. All 

* I have a specimen of writing from one of a class who had been five months under tnis 
instruction, remarkable for the correctness of spelling and execution. It was written from 
•dictation. The pupil was seven years of age. 



532 GRASERS SYSTEM OF INSTRUCTION, ETC. 

the c.rcu.-nstances, except those relating to the army, were out of the pale of their 
ordinary experience, and the complex mechanism of government was beyond the 
power of their reason to grasp. The German language is taught grammatically 
in this class, and, besides the geography and natural history of Bavaria, its his- 
tory, the biography of its most distinguished men, arithmetic, mental and written, 
geometry, drawing, singing, and morals from the Bible. At this stage of pro- 
gress, it is quite apparent that the branches require a different mode of instruc- 
tion, that they must be separated, and the progress of each regulated according 
to the adaptation of the mind of the pupil to its reception, and not according to 
any extraneous theoretical circumstances. 

The two highest classes being joined under a teacher who pursued altogether 
the old method of instruction, I had no opportunity to put to the test the judgment 
formed in the lower class, which I have just expressed. Social or political circimi- 
stances do not afford, I am satisfied, a just method of arranging the details of in- 
sti'uction, though a knowledge of them should doubtless form a part of education. 
The reasons why the arrangement of Graser produces satisfactory results in the 
lower classes are, first, that elementary instruction does not require a systematic 
division of its subjects, in order to apply them to cultivating the intellect or 
morals, or for communicating knowledge : and second, that the subjects are 
within the pale of the child's experience, and refer to his every day wants and 
perceptions. Just the reverse, however, is the case in the higher divisions, and 
hence a different method becomes absolutely necessary.* Still the leading idea 
of the system, that to develop the intellectual, moral, and physical faculties of man 
is not sufficient, but that he must be educated in reference to the life in which he 
is to take a part, strikes with the force of truth, independently of the details which 
may be devised to carry it into effect. 

The institutions which Dr. Graser considers necessary to give the entire public 
instruction of a nation are : 

POPULAR SCHOOLS. SCHOOLS FOR HIGHER INSTRUCTION. 

1. The elementary school. 1. The elementary school. 

2. The real school, ("real frymnasium.") 2. The gymnasium. 

3. The real institute, ("real university.") 3. The university. 

The character of the instruction appropriate to these establishments may, ac- 
cording to his views, be thus expressed. In the elementary school, it should be 
popular and inductive ; in the real school, practical and scientific ; and in the 
university, scientific and practical, or applying science to practice. 

• This view is also taken by Dr. KrBger, whose experience and skill as a teacner 1 have 
already so often referred to. See his journey through Germany. (Reise durcb Deutsch- 
land, &c., pp. 132, 133.) 



JOHN HENRY WICHERN AND THE ROUGH HOUSE 



HORN, NEAR HAMBURG. 



John Henry Wichkrn, whose name will ever be asscxMated with 
one of the most interesting educational and reformatory movements 
of the age, as founder and superintendent of the Rough House, 
{Rauhe Haus,) near Hamburg, was born in that city on the 21st of 
April, 1808* His father was a notary and sworn translator, and 
gave his son the advantages of the best education which Hamburg 
aflEbrded. He attended the Johamieum and the academic gymnasium 
of his native city, and afterward, till 1830, pursued a course of the- 
ological study at Gottingen and Berlin. Soon after passing his ex- 
amination in theology at Hamburg, he went practically to work, vis- 
iting the poor and the needy in the corners and the streets of the 
city, and undertaking the direction of a free Sunday school for poor 
children, in which he soon assembled four or five hundred scholars 
and about forty volunteer teachers. Wichern declined the proposi- 
tions made him at this time to enter upon the duties of a clergyman, 
as his thoughts were already occupied in planning such an institution 
as he opened near Hamburg, in the Rough House, at Michelmas, 1833. 

The Rough House, [Rauhe Haus,) was the name, by which a small 
property, on a lane leading out of the village of Horn, four miles from 
Hamburg was known, consisting of small thatched cottage, shadowed 
by a large chestnut tree, and two or three acres of ground partially 
cleared up, through which straggled a little brook. In the prosecu- 
tion of a plan, suggested by his missionary labors among the poor of 
Hamburg, of establishing a House of Rescue for destitute, vagrant, 
and vicious children, not yet convicted by the courts of crime, Mr. 
"Wichern, aided by a voluntary association of like minded men, and 
by a small donation of three hundred dollars, took possession of this 
rough cottage with his mother, and in a few weeks received into his 
family three boys of the worst description, and adopted them as his 
children. One by one, he added to their number from the same class 
until his family circle, with himself and mother, embraced fourteen per- 
sons — twelve of them, the least hopeful of the juvenile population of 
the city. And there under that thatched roof, with that unpromising 
ground, with the help of his devout mother, with a well spring of 
Christian charity in the hearts, and words of kindness on the lips of 
both, Mr. Wichern succeeded in inspiring those children with the 
attachments of a home — in cultivating filial affections, almost dormant — 

* We are indebted for the principal facts of this Memoir to the Converaations-Lexicon. 



5S4 JOHN HENRY WICHERN. 

in forming habits of pro6table industry, and laying the foundations of 
a good moral character on which they subsequently built up a useful 
life. From these small beginnings, without the aid at any time of 
large governmental grants, and of but one large legacy [of $13,500,] 
the institution has expanded, until in 1854, the grounds included 
thirty-two acres, portions of which are tastefully laid out in walks and 
shrubbery, and all of which are highly cultivated ; to the original 
Rough House have been added fourteen buildings of plain but sub- 
stantial construction, scattered in a picturesque manner about the 
grounds, and the principles of Family Organization, Christian Training 
and Industrial occupation have been preserved and improved, until it 
has become the working model for a new order of preventive and 
reformatory agencies in every country of Europe. 

Since 1840, as the foundation of asylums for destitute children has 
followed in Germany, France and England, Dr.* Wichern has aided 
various enterprises of a similar character. He had already united 
under the name of the Inner Mission almost all active eiforts in 
Germany for the moral and religious improvement of the destitute 
and vicious, when chiefly through his instrumentality, the Central 
Committee for the Inner Mission, was appointed at the first Ecclesias- 
tical Convention, {die Kirchen-Tag^ at Wittenberg, in Sept. 1848. 
Through this committee of which he was a member, Wichern gained 
a much wider field for his activity. At the annual meeting of the 
Kirchen-Tag, and on his travels in every part of Germany he aids by 
word and deed the establishment of societies and institutions for the 
promotion of education, and the care of the sick, poor and imprisoned. 

Upon his return from a journey to England in 1851, the Prussian 
government employed him to visit the houses of correction, and 
prisons of the kingdom, and to attempt their improvement. Pre- 
vented by these active duties from literary exertions he has published 
but little. His work on " the Inner Mission of the German Evangeli- 
cal Church" (Hamb. 1849,) presents his principles concerning free 
christian charity and its relations to the ecclesiastical and social ques- 
tions of the day. Since 1844 he has published the "Flying Leaves 
of the Rough House," (Fliegende Blatter des Rauhen Hause,) in 
which are contained a portion of the addresses which he has made at 
the different ecclesiastical conventions. 

The accompanying diagrams, copied from a number of the " Flying 
Leaves," exhibit the outward aspects of the Rough House, as they 
appeared to the Editor of this Journal in 1854, — and the article which 
follows, will present the principles on which it has been conducted. 

♦ In 1851, he received from the Dniversity of Halle, the degree of Doctor of Philology. 




iliiiillillii.iSi!i!il;.:i!ili;^ 



iiiiii 11 I 



I i 



)Vi il':i.:i.!'''ii;i'll!iiiil!,ii::iiiii-i!''''' 



586 THE ROUGH HOUSE. 

Entering the grounds, which are enclosed only by a hedge, at the gate 
which fronts the chapel, on the right, (1,) is the original Rough House, 
the cradle of the institution, and just back of it the large chestnut tree, 
beneath which so many happy reunions have been celebrated. In the 
Rough House are accommodations for a family of twelve boys, the chief 
of this family and several of the brothers. There is also an apartment 
where the new comers are received until they can be distributed into 
their appropriate groups, and the business office. Passing up the grav- 
eled walk, is a side path to the left, which leads to the (2,) Book Bindery, 
(Buch-bindei'ei,) and (3,) the Stereotype Foundry, in which some of the 
inmates are employed under trained workmen. Further to the left (4,) 
stands the Swiss House, (Schweizer-Haus,) erected in 1834. This is the 
Porter's Lodge and the Printing Office, with accommodations for a family 
of twelve boys, and their chief, and two brothers. Directly beyond the 
lodge and the bindery is the lake, into which the labor of the boys has ex- 
panded the once straggling brook, and on its borders droop the willow 
and the ash, beneath which (16,) stands the Fisherman's Hut, {Ficherhutte,) 
erected in 1846, for the residence of a group of boys, with two brothers. 

On the right and just beyond the Rough House, stands (25,) a new 
dwelling erected in 1853, for the residence of a family of twelve boys, 
and a circle of brothers and assistants. The structure is very conven- 
ient, and the cost was about $1,500. In the northeast corner of the 
grounds, (16,) is the Bee Hive, {Bienenlcorb,) erected in 1841, with ac- 
commodations for a group of twelve boys, and a circle of brothers. 

Directly in front of the gate by which we entered, and in full sight, is 
(23, 24,) a group of buildings, in which is the chapel, (AnstaltsBiche,) 
erected in 1835, the school-rooms, the library, the preparatory depart- 
ment for the girls, and (23,) the residence of the director of all this por- 
tion of the institution. Here too is the linen room, the store room, and 
the only kitchen on the premises. Adjoining the church is (22,) the 
dwelling for two families of giris, and to the right (20,) the Wash House, 
(Waseherei,) and Drying House, (21.) 

Passing to the left from the church, and its associated buildings, we 
pass on the right (18, 17,) the House of Industry, (Arleithaus,) with 
workshops for carpentering, shoemaking, slipper manufactoring, tailoring, 
weaving, &c., with apartments (15,) called the Shepherd's Cot, (Hirten- 
hiiite.) for a family of boys, and a circle of brothers. Beyond and back, 
screened by the trees, are (14,) the bam and stables ; and on the left (13,) 
is the bakery, (12,) and residence of the farmer. 

In the northwest corner, fronting on a beautiful lawn, and with a back 
ground of oaks, (8, 9, 10,) are accommodations for a number of lads of 
respectable families, not guilty of crime, but found diflScult to man- 
age, with chambers, school-rooms and library, for the teachers and 
brothers, hospital and bathing accommodations for the whole establish- 
ment, and the book-store, and counting-room. 

Beyond the lawn (6,) stands (5,) the Mother House, (MutUrhaus,) the 
private residence of the family of the Superintendent. 



REFORMATORY EDUCATION. 



587 




THE GERMAN REFORM SCHOOL* 



CHARACTERISTIC FKATURES OF TITE REFORM SCHOOL. 

The German Reform School is of recent origin, and belongs to a class of 
institutions, wliicli, however they may otherwise differ, agree in this : they 
deal with a portion of the juvenile population whose education, from 
whatever cause, presents peculiar difficulties, and who, without some 
special aid in this direction, would become dangerous to society. These 
institutions claim, therefore, not merely an educational, but an ecclesias- 
tical, and political interest. They attack, at its very root, a great social evil, 
which is slowly eating away the life of the nation, and, for that reason, 
rouse the most active interest far and wide. "We are accustomed to 
designate the class of youth referred to, in general terms, as " depraved 
through neglect." But this term, although frequently applicable, is far 
from being universally correct ; for we often count among such institu- 
tions. Children's Homes, Orphan Asylums, or Institutions for the 
Education of the Poor ; and we must own that these establishments admit 
occasionally depraved youth, and thus act as a preventive of such 
depravity. The admission of tlie depraved is not the special purpose of 
these institutions, as their names and essential characteristics show. No 
one will assert that a child is corrupted, or will become so, merely because 
he is an orphan, or poor. The term " depraved through neglect " does 
not even apply to the "inmates of Houses of Correction; for these should 
receive such children as have proved unmanageable and degenerate 
through certain influences and circumstances, and in spite of all the care 
of their fathers and mothers. There are many parents so afflicted with 
perverse children. They are found in all substratums of society — in the 
higher, quite as often as in the lower classes. When these misguided 
youth come in collision with the police, which happens but rarely, they 
enter into the criminal stage which is generally ruinous. The Houses of 
Correction (or Improvement) and the Penitentiaries, are now opened to 
them. The parents and guardians, despairing of their own influence, seek 
the assistance of these severe schools, where, kept from evil company, the 
work of education may be commenced anew, and the incipient criminal 
saved, perhaps, from the extreme penalties of the law. An unceremonious 
method frequently employed when the boy is old enough, is to put him 

*This paper is drawn up by Rev. John Henry Wichem, the founder of the Sauhe-Saus, 
the. model on which the Qermau Eeform Schools have been organized. 



690 THE GERMAN KEFOKM SCHOOL. 

aboard ship, or send him across the Atlantic. If he belong to the higher 
classes, and his age, strength, and military education warrant it, he is sent 
to Bavaria, or into the Dutch army. If too young for such attempts, he is 
placed in one of the boarding schools provided for this class of offenders, or 
he is put under the care of a clergyman. These experiments are rarely 
successful. How are the wants of a much larger class to be met ? 

In every grade of these establishments — from Orphan Asylum to Peni- 
tentiary — there are examples of vicious boys, who must be kept apart 
from their companions, lest they contaminate them. There is the 
question, then, presenting itself to every parent, guardian, or friend and 
instructor of j'outh : how is help to be found for the undutiful, education 
'for the would-be ignorant and naturally perverse, and restraining, yet 
loving care, for the evil-inclined ? How are these children of sin to be 
kept from temporal and eternal ruin ? This need appeals most powerfully 
to Christian love ; and the idea immediately suggests itself of an establish- 
ment guided by tenderness — yet maintaining the strictest discipline — 
which shall ardently endeavor to save those necessarily abandoned by 
other educational methods ; by the family, clergy, schools and institutes. 
The children here alluded to, are to be considered as pre-eminently the 
" lost and gone astray," and as in the most dangerous condition. 

The term Reform Schools will fully describe institutions of this nature. 
The Reform School must be a house of education. It must, by the charac- 
ter of its pupils, and by its aim, be perfectly distinct from all other educa- 
tional foundations. The Reform School is not a home for little children ; 
it is not an orphan asylum ; far less is it a poor-house, or refuge for poor 
children. The purpose of these institutions is indicated by their names. 
The Reform School may be recruited from the orphaned and unorphaned, 
from the neglected and the tenderly nurtured, from the poor and from the 
rich. For similar reasons the Reform School is distinct from the House of 
Correction, or of Improvement — and entirely, and in its very nature differ- 
ent from the Penitentiary for young criminals. It is true that the morals 
of the inmates of the Reform School and Penitentiary do not essentially 
differ. It is a fact to be remembered, that the pupils of the Reform School 
often rank much lower, morally, than individuals s.entenced to prison for 
one misdemeanor which came under the cognizance of the law. The 
pupil of the Reform School has transgressed heavily and often, yet by 
chance has escaped from j ustice ; while the other may suffer for a compara- 
tively small offense. There are greater transgressions and moral failings 
which the law does not reach, and can never punish. Notwithstanding 
the moral similarity of the inmates of the school and penitentiary, there is a 
great and essential difference between the institutions and those under their 
discipline. The Penitentiaries and Houses of Correction are established 
by the State, their object is punishment hy law. The Reform Schools are 
founded by Christian love and Charity, their object is not punishment of 
past offenses, )0l complete forgiveness. 

In the Penit'entiaries the inmate is always detained by force. The 
parents resist this detention ; for it is a disgrace to them. On the contrary 
no judicial sentence keeps the pupil in the Reform School. He is there by 
the will find authority of his parents, and by the Christian kindness of those 



THE GERMAN REFORM SCHOOL. 59I 

who, aa heads of the establishment, take the place of parents. The Peni- 
tentiary receives criminals alone. The Reform School is a school of reform- 
ation only while it remains without direct relation to the punishing law, 
while it receives no criminal, or person needing judicial correction. The 
educational principle of the Penitentiary is law ; that of the Reform School 
is mercy. The Penitentiary is, and must be, powerless to educate through 
liberty and the influences of a Christian family intercourse ; for the funda- 
mental condition of such education, the freedom of the individual, is want- 
ing. Deprivation of freedom is the basis of their existence and discipline. 
The free development of the faculties is wanting, the means for which is so 
necessary for the true training of the child. The officer of the Penitentiary 
is fettered as completely as his charge. Iron restriction is the very essepce 
of such an institution. But the Reform School, which is founded and nour- 
ished by freedom, can only accomplish its object, the saving of children, by 
guarding jealously the freedom of teacher, pupil, and the whole educational 
corps. This would be destroyed if the pupil should be obliged to receive 
a judicial sentence before entering the school, as in the Penitentiary and 
House of Correction. The children of the school would be pupils no longer, 
but prisoners. 

This characteristic distinction is so important for the correct apprecia- 
tion of the Reform Schools and their eflScacy, that we must dwell on it a mo- 
ment longer. It must not be overlooked that, in the House of Correction 
and in the Penitentiary for j-outhful criminals, religious teaching finds a 
place, and often exerts an influence. But its power for good is necessarily 
limited because fettered, and if in fetters free, it is nevertheless overshad- 
owed by the ban of the law, under the weight of which, the inmate 
struggles without hope of relief This weight remains, and rightly, even 
when the child or adult repents truly for the crime committed. The train- 
ing in the Penitentiary and House of Correction is modified by the law, 
which governs all with unchanging severity, and whose stern justice never 
flinches. In all essential points the rule of discipline must difTcr from that 
of the free Reform School. If these distinctions could be forgotten, the edu- 
cation would be a contradiction, and the real purpose of these separate in- 
stitutions would fail. We must insist on this point, in order to distinguish 
the characteristics of the Reform School from those of a third class of insti- 
tutions. The public aulhorities must punish by law. Hence it is observable 
how little they have been able to effect in the training of children. The 
State may then welcome private co-operation in its educational aims, re- 
sign the sentenced child to the care of institutions founded and dkected by 
pnvate individuals. This has been done extensively during the last twenty- 
five years, especially in France. 

The establishment of Mettrat, so well-known in Germany, with 
many others of the kind, has proposed to the civil authorities to receive 
children under sentence. These institutions of France are now harboring 
and training thousands of the neglected and depraved. Of course, these 
establishments, filled with children sentenced by law, cannot be considered 
Reform Schools in the German sense of the word. They are a variety of 
the House of Correction, in which the intention of the State is fulfilled by 
private endeavor. We shall hereafter designate them a& Free Houses of 



692 TUE GERMAN EEFOKM SCHOOL. 

Correction. In France they are called after that of Mettray, Colonies Peni- 
tentiaires. 

This class of institution embraces, then : asylums, orphan homes, 
houses for poor chiLlren, reform schools, and houses of correction, both pri- 
vate and public. In all, the same elements of destitution, neglect and de- 
pravity appear. In the true Reform or Rescue School, depravity is only 
accidental. In the schools last mentioned, the pupils have become youth- 
ful criminals who are under the discipline of law, and who, with their lib- 
erty, have lost their place in society. Between these, the free Reform 
School, the fruit of Christian benevolence, holds a middle place. It is the 
complement of the Christian family, and aids it in educating the neglected, 
anji saving endangered souls. A diversity in the means of the Reform 
Schools will naturally result from the attempts to reach the various kinds 
and degrees of neglect and error. In certain States they will prove in greater 
or less degree serviceable to country districts, and in others, to the interests 
of cities and villages. Institutions in cities will differ from those established 
for smaller towns. Many are filled from among the poor and humble, while 
others are adapted for the assistance of the higher classes. While most 
Reform Schools must aim at elementary instruction only, others may pre- 
pare pupils for the gymnasium. There will be institutions belonging to 
and dealing with a certain disti'ict. There will be others of wider range 
and more universal character. Other sub-divisions are possible, directed to 
the special wants of a certain class, for vagrants, for fallen girls, etc. Various 
as these establishments are, they are alike in this, viz. : they are organized 
like a family; they work for the improvement of those under their care as 
a Christian home may work ; and they are based on the prmciples of hu- 
manity and benevolence. As the object of these institutions has been rec- 
ognized as that of the reformation of the young, they bear the name of 
Reform Schools, or Reform House. Most of the German Bettungs-Ansialten 
are known by their special locality ; as Beuggen, Ddsselthal, Tempelhof, 
Lichtenstcin, Caslle of Arenberg, Rauhe Haus, etc. A professed enmity to 
such names, though really to the spirit of the Reform School, has led to the 
adoption of other designations. The institution of Bremen is called, Ellener 
Hof; that of Lubeck, Fischerbuden; of Celle, the Liner House; the tstablish- 
ment of Rostock bears the name of Gelsdorf ; that near Reval, Antonshurg; 
the one near Flensburg is called, Martin's Foundation, etc. In Russia these 
institutions are termed, " Houses for Poor Children." In France they are 
known as " Colonies Agricoles," further designated by their location, as 
Mettray, St. Foy, Oullins, etc. In America they are called " Farm Schools." 
In England, where great activity is shown in this field, they are known as 
" Reform Schools," or " Houses of Reformation," " Rescue Societies," "Re- 
fuges," etc. They translate the German designation by " Reformatory," or, 
quite incorrectlj', by " House of Salvation." 

"We do not intend to treat the subject of Reform Schools exhaustively; 
but only to point out their characteristics, and though we may glance at 
the institutions of other governments, we shall mainly direct our attention 
to those of Germany proper, and the adjacent countries, German by their 
language. 

The main difficulty of the subject lies in tue absence of a literature.' 



THE GERMAN EEFORM SCHOOL. 593 

The only comprehensive treatise is that of Pastor L. Volter, which treats 
only of Wurtcmbcrg. * The "work published by J. K. Zellweger f offers 
much satisfactory information, but nothing bearing on the present article. 
The annual reports of these institutions alone remain to us, and these are of 
slight literary value. It is an evidence of the progress of the subject, and 
the interest it excites, that Prof Palmer, Dr. Stoy, and the publications of 
the Rauhe-Haus, discuss the principles underlying these schools; but a full 
historical and scientific treatment can only be had after a more extended 
appreciation of their social importance and influence, when greater atten- 
tion is paid to their plan and method of management, by the friends of 
education. 

II. niSTORT OF GERMAN REFORM SCnOOLS. 

The first provision of this kind was made in those Protestant cities of 
the Netherlands, in which the reformation in the church was succeeded by 
a political and social transformation. This struck at the root of those abuses 
that had increased under a vicious treatment of the poor, and by that system 
of street-begging, allowed and encouraged by the Catholic church. The 
establishment of new workhouses at Amsterdam, Leyden etc., was rendered 
necessary by the legal prohibition of vagrancJ^ Many of the cities of 
Northern Germany, Hamburg, Lubeck, etc., followed this example. Ener- 
getic measures were taken against young thieves, who were now placed 
under the care of the magistrate, and received religious instruction. 

It is important to notice that every workhouse or poorhouse was now 
furnished with special departments, in which children, obstinately disobe- 
dient to parents and teachers, were subjected to training. James Doepler 
gives some valuable information with regard to this subject in his TJieat- 
rum Pcenarum of 1693. The boys in thtse establishments were employed 
in mechanical work. Parents could send hither all wilful and wicked chil- 
dren to be treated for their mischievous propensities. Ifthe parents paid the 
board of their sons, the boys were put in certain rooms, and not required to 
work. Afterwards, the orphan homes, originated by A. 11. Francke, offered 
similar aid to neglected children. 

But in many places the object of orphan homes has never been strictly 
kept in view. For instance, the large Frederic Orphan House of Berlin, 
which at the close of the year 18G5 contained 1,531 children, admitted from 
1850 to 1860. Fifty-seven per cent, of these were not orphans at all, but 
were received because their parents were either ill or vicious. Out of 
2,915 children received in ten years twenty-eight per cent, had been 
abandoned by their fathers and mothers. In the year 1857, the number of 
these forsaken children reached 600. 

In the Poor Houses and Orphan Asylums of other cities of Germany ai-e 
found many such abandoned boys and girls. The great number of children 
of this class, collected in the smaller Work and Poor Houses of the kingdom 
of Saxony, Holstein, etc., will soon demonstrate the necessity of establishing 
Reform Schools in connection with the Poor Houses ; for to bring these 

* Geschichte und Statistik der Eettungsanstalten fur arme und verwahrloste Kinder in 
Wurtemberg. Stuttgart, 1845. 
t Schwiizerische Armenschulen nach FeUerAergschen Grundsatzen. Troxen, 1S15, 

38 



694 THE GERMAN REFORM SCHOOL.' 

children into the society of drunkards and vicious persons sent to" these' 
places, can only result in their total depravity. Many establishments of the 
kind were formed at the close of the last century, when the state authorities 
issued stricter police regulations against beggars and vagrants, and when' 
the charities of the public became more completely organized. The punish-j 
ment of petty crimes has brought the young offenders under severe con-] 
trol ; and a great number of Houses of Correction have sprung up in states 
and cities, under the direction of the government. 

Mauy private establishments have also been founded from motives of 
benevolence. They still exist in Germany, Switzerland, Scandina\'ia, in the 
German provinces of the Baltic, and in Belgium (since 1848), in France' 
(1818), England (1840-1850), in Holland (1818), and m North America.] 
They bear various names, but all have the same object, the care of neglected 
and depraved children. This educational movement is characteristic of the 
latter part of our century, and is still increasing. In the center of the long 
line of our modern institutions stand the Reform Schools of Germany. 

It is impossible to enter on the history of these institutions without 
speaking of Pestalozzi. We must remember how, in the humility of a guile-' 
less heart, full of enthusiasm, he labored for the home education of the 
people, and, since 1775, for the elevation of the neglected children of his 
country. Nor must we forget that Legrand, the friend of Oberlin, at that 
time one of the five directors of the Swiss republic, assisted at the founda- 
tion of an institution in Stanz, established by Pestalozzi. With all the care- 
ful combination of work with instruction in Stanz, Pestalozzi never found 
room fur religious training. From his earliest years he had labored to lessen 
the miseries of those around him. Their happiness was his sole aspiration.' 
Yet, noble-hearted champion as he was, he stood in the van of battle with-' 
out the only weapon strong enough to defeat the enemy. In spite of all 
his loving ardor, a melancholy failure attended his work. In his old age 
he saw these hopes realized in the first Reform School on the German fron- 
tier ; but they were realized by others, who, not loving the work more, had 
yet sought divine aid in their labors. This he himself acknowledged, when,' 
an old man of eighty, he received the greeting of song and flowers from the 
pupils of the Reform School of Beuggen. He gave back the wreath to the 
father of the household, the venerable Zeller, his long-tried friend, with the 
confession, that he now witnessed the embodiment of his own aspirations.' 
When in 182G he saw the inner workings of a Reform School, he exclaimed 
" This is what I wished for ! " 

With the name of Pestalozzi must be associated that of Fellenberg,' 
of Hofwyl, who, with the assistance of Wehrli, labored to incorporate 
industry into the training of poor and neglected children. 

The distinguishing peculiarity of the Reform School is the union of 
Christian teaching with primary education. The growing and changing 
needs of the time are influenced by the power of religion — afiecting, not 
one portion merely, but the entire life. From the very first, all are conscious 
of belonging to the kingdom of God, and, though in the centre of Christi- 
anity, they strive to do the work of Missionaries. This view explains 
how the idea of a Reform School started into independent being in several 
places at the same time. 



THE GERMAN EEFOEM SCHOOL. 595 

The originator of the Reform School was John Falk, of Weimar, the 
friend of Goethe and Herder. His first effort was purely original, a stroke 
of genius. He was Coimcilor of Legation, when, seeing the devastation 
and misery caused by the war, he devoted himself to the aid of the 
Buffering. The Duke of Regusa, in 1813, had begun the work of destruc- 
tion at Weimar. It was just before the battle of Leipsic. After the battle, 
bands of roving marauders laid the country again in ruins. In one year, 
the little State of 100,000 inhabitants quartered over 900,000 soldiers. 
Want and misery reached their highest point. The war soon drove the 
people from their homes. Pestilence followed. At this time, Falk was 
suffering great bereavement. One after the other, six daughters were 
taken from him ; and at last, his only son, a boy of nineteen, died. He 
was childless. Then he resolved to become a father to the orphans of the 
war. To the care of the wretched and homeless he would now devote 
the rest of his life. His friend Pastor Horn joined him. They formed a 
society called " Friends in Need. " In 1818, they had found homes for 
300 children in the families of farmers and mechanics. Those who were 
without religious education were assembled in a day school, the confirmed 
attended an evening school. As the pupils of the Normal School were 
then needing assistance, he gathered sixty of them, and gave them mstruc- 
tion during the evening in the art of teaching. He took neglected girls 
as well as boys. They were taught reading, writing, sewing, and house- 
work. In this way Falk became the center of an ever-growing circle of 
missionary labor. In his work of 1823, he says : — " The principal object 
of our Society during eleven years, has been the salvation of souls. Not 
the conversion of the heathen of Asia and Africa, but those of our own, 
in Saxony and Prussia." His local usefulness reached its height when he 
determined to build a house of prayer, aided by those of his pupils who 
were apprenticed to mechanics. The corner-stone of this •' Luther hof" 
was laid by his own hands in 1823. The building was finished by his 
scholars, at a cost of 15,000 thalers. The money had been collected prin- 
cipally in North Germany and Holland. Falk survived the completion of 
this work but a short time. He died in 1826, after great suffering, but 
with full faith in his Saviour. He was fifty-six years old. The closing 
labor of his life was specially important, by the influence it exerted on 
Middle and North Germany ; but his work was of too personal a nature 
to last beyond the life of its author. A small Orphan Home at Weimar is 
all that now exists. 

The foundation of St. Martin, a similar institution, established in 1819 
by Reinthaler, the friend of Falk, has done great good. Reinthaler took 
children out of the streets and prisons, and taught them by his " historical 
liturgical" method. During the first twenty-two years, 3619 children 
were instructed. But these institutions could not continue. For a time 
Rein thaler's school stopped. In 1867 it reopened with but fifteen boys. 
It is now maintained in part by the income of a bequest of Reinthaler 
(8000 thalers), and partly by the city of Erfurt. King Frederic William 
IV. presented the fine building now occupied by the school. 

In Silesia, several small Reform Schools were created by means of 
the previous efforts of Falk and Reinthaler, Some of these are still in 



596 THE GERMAN EEFOKM SCHOOL. 

existence. There were establishments at Goldberg (1829), Luben (1833), 
and in several other places. The arrangements made by the Counts 
Adalbert and Werner von der Ricke, at Dttsselthal, are much more ex- 
tensive. This work, although simultaneous with that of Falk, was entirely 
independent of it. The father of the young Counts above mentioned, 
who died in 1840, aged 80, had established a Normal School at Over- 
dyk, on the Rhine, in 1789, and had founded besides a Society of the 
Friends of Education. The French occupation destroyed this work, 
which was, however, destined to reappear in another way. After the 
war of 1813, great destitution prevailed among the inhabitants of the 
Rhine country. The highways were filled with begging children. The 
young Counts von der Ricke, who had inherited the spirit of their 
father, resolved to provide for the poor. The old Count had left his 
sons the seminary building at Overdyk. Here a refuge was opened 
with four children, in October, 1819. The number soon increased to 
sixty-eight. All good things grew with the institution, which was 
soon divided into two departments for the older and younger scholar. 
The attention of Count Adalbert was directed to the large old Abbey 
of Diisselthal, near Dlisseldorf. He bought it for 51,573 thalers, trust- 
ing that God would provide the means of paying for it. In June, 1822, 
the higher division, numbering forty-four children, was removed to 
the Abbey. The primary department has always remained at Overdyk. 
In the course of time, the estate increased. It now includes 493 acres of 
land. There is a fair capital, with an annual income of 20,000 thalers, 
partly the contribution of friends. During the early years of its existence, 
particularly, the sympathies of the charitable in North Germany were 
expressed by ample provisions of money and material. For Diisselthal 
and the " Luther hof " were then the only institutions of the kind in G^- 
many. The Kings Frederic William III. and IV. made large contribu- 
tions, considerable sums were sent from England, and the Count himself 
advanced money without interest. Thus, the institution was able to 
assume large proportions. It has been in existence forty -eight years ; 2581 
children have been educated, and afterwards have learned a trade. Count 
von der Ricke presided over the school till 1847, and then entrusted its 
administration to a Board, of which he is a member. During that year, 
Diisselthal contained 179 pupils, 69 of whom were girls. It has greatly 
increased since. Counting both departments, there are over 300 children 
in charge, making it the largest Reform School in Germany. The children 
have rooms in the Abbey ; they receive school instruction, and learn to 
work. The boys are employed on the farm. Since 1859, a seminary for 
the training of teachers has been added, from which 132 graduates have 
been sent out. Diisselthal has been created a separate parish, and thus 
has corporate privileges. 

The third establishment important in the history of Reform Schools, 
is Beuggen. It is situated at the very southern part of Baden, on the 
borders of Switzerland, and actually belongs to both countries. The Rev. 
Mr. Spittler, of Basle, was greatly instrumental in the erection of this 
school. He also founded the Mission House of Basle. The project was 
carried out in the midst of the calamities of war. Resolutions were passed 



THK GERMAN KEFORM SCHOOL. 597 

amid the roar of the cannon of the battle field of Kuningen, which struck 
fear to the hearts of the people of Basle. It was in 181G that Spittler and 
Zeller, returning from a visit to the IMission House, resolved to work for 
the establishment of a Normal School in connection with a Reform School. 
After several attempts to obtain the necessary funds for the work, the 
Grand Duke of Baden consented to rent them the Castle of Beuggen, at 
the nominal sum of thirty florins. Here the first Reform School of South 
Germany was founded, in which seventy children are now instructed A 
training school is connected with it. Many of the teachers educated there 
have since become the Directors of Reform Schools elsewhere. In 1804, 
forty-three years after its foundation, 672 children, and 277 brethren had 
been admitted ; while 153 teachers had been sent out from the establish- 
ment. 

The reformatory work in Wurtemburg was associated with the school 
of Beuggen. The Reform Schools in connection with the Normal Schools 
at Lichtenstein (1830) and Tempelhof (1843) are among the larger institu- 
tions of the kind. Lichtenstein was founded by the Prussian School In- 
spector Zeller, after a visit to Beuggen, which afterwards came under the 
direction of Louis Volter. It is situated near Weinsburg, and includes a 
Reform School for boys, and another for girls, with forty-six pupils in 
both. A Normal School, number thirty-five pupils, is carried on with the 
School for boys. The whole is directed by an inspector. The Tempel- 
hof Reform School, numbering ninety-two scholars, has a Preparatory 
Department, and Private Seminary for teachers, connected with it; both 
of which are designed to supply the schools of Wurtemburg. Among the 
high-born persons who have supported the Wurtemburg schools, we must 
mention with due honor the Duchess Henrietta. 

The institutions of Gustavus Werner belong to this class. There are 
eight of them: the Chief Home at Reutlingen, with its seven Branch or 
Associated Schools. These Asylums possess three hundred and twenty-three 
acres of land, a large industrial factory, with an annual working capital 
of thirty thousand florins. In 18G3, four hundred and thirty-eight pupils 
were accommodated here, but financial losses have reduced the number to 
one hundred and eighty-five. Seven hundred children in all have been 
educated there. In 1867 Wurtemburg contained thirty-two institutions of 
the kind : twenty-six Protestant, five Catholic, and one Jewish Reform 
School. These could accommodate 1667 children, and in 1867 actually did 
contain 1269 pupils. The total number of children received since 1820 is 
10,099. There are besides many Societies, whose object is to bring neg- 
lected children into Homes, or Schools. All these institutions and societies 
work under the direction of a Central Committee of Charity, organized in 
1817 by Queen Catherine, the foundress of St. Pauline, the first Reform 
School in Wurtemburg, Stuttgart. 

Wurtemburg has done more for reform and education than any other 
German state. It is strange that the efforts of Protestants here should have 
ceased in 1848, for the two Schools established in 18o6-59 have no impor- 
tance. On the contrary, the Catholic church has shown great energy. In 
1848 it possessed but one Reform School, but now has five, in which about 
two hundred and seventy pupils are educated. These Wurtemburg insti- 



598 THE GEKMAN REFORM SCHOOL. 

tutions adopt children for the purpose of guarding them from neglect and 
vice ; this is a characteristic feature. The report of the anniversary of 
18G7 confirms this: The Schools are termed " Institutions for Neglected' 
Children," and they are further distinguished from the foundation of 
Schonbiihthof, which admits boys from the House of Correction. 

The Farm and Reform Schools of Switzerland must be considered to-, 
gether, for they diflFer only in a few unimportant particulars. From 
1810 to 1830, seven Schools were erected. During the next ten years twelve 
were founded, and from 1841 to 1846 ten more. In 1846 there were twenty-' 
nine schools with seven hundred pupils. Since that time fifteen new in- 
stitutions have been established, so that Switzerland has now forty-four 
schools with 1543 pupils. The name of Professor Spleiss ranks first among 
the early laborers in this field. The " Swiss Patriotic Society " and Baron 
Wessenberg founded the Reform School at Bachtelen, near Berne in 1839. 
Berne has fourteen of these institutions, among which are several Schools 
for Children condemned for crime. Zurich has four, St. Gall four, Lu- 
cerne and Appenzell one each. Sonnenberg, near Lucerne, is a Catholic 
foundation. The School at Oldburg in Argovia is for both confessions. 
The rest are Protestant. 

Reform Schools were established in South Germany in 1848 — first in 
Bavaria, and afterwards at Neuhof, near Strasburg, and in Baden. The 
name of Karl von Raumer is connected with the Bavarian schools. He 
established in 1824 the first Reform School at Numberg, under a director 
from Beuggen. Almost at the same time Pastor Kraft of Erlangen, whose 
house was a centre of all missionary enterprise, undertook a similar work. 
Aided by his family, and a student, who had become acquainted with the 
institutions of Wurtemburg, he founded a Reform School for girls in Er- 
langen, under the direction of a lady educated at Diisselthal. 

In Bayreuth the dedication of a monument to Jean Paul (1841) in- 
duced the Mayor of the city to found a school. The establishment of the 
Reform School at Neuhof, near Strasburg in Alsace, is a beautiful evidence 
of Christian faith. A pious carpenter, Phil. James Wurtz, was the founder 
of it. He died at the age of eighty- tree, in the midst of the children of his 
school. 

In Baden a Society had been formed, with Baron Wessenberg at the 
head, which formed a Protestant School at Durlach, and a Catholic one 
in the Convent of Mariahof (1843), each numbering fifty pupils. While the 
interest in Reform Schools was fast increasing in the south and southwest 
of Germany, it seemed to be dying away in the north. After Falk's death, 
in 1826, Lutherhof was suspended. St. Martin's, at Erfurt, and Diisselthal 
showed little vigor. At that time the bond of German union was wanting. 
There was no national sympathy between the countries of the north 
and south. 

Besides the work of reform carried on in Southern Germany, there 
were some institutions started in Berlin and in some of the provinces, the 
fruit of political expediency. One of these was founded by M. Rother, 
assisted by some members of the Berlin magistracy. It is situated before 
the Halle-Gate, and was first opened in 1825, under director Kopf. The 
inmates were sent by the Berlin magistracy. The institute contains forty- 



THE GERMAN REFORM SCHOOL. 699 

eight pupils at an annual expense of two hundred and twenty-three tha- 
lers paid by the city. They are under the care of the civil authorities, for it 
is a kind of Private House of Correction. Parents may send their children 
here, as in other Reform Schools; but the discipline is necessarily severe. 
For many years the pupils were employed in the manufacture of screws. 
For a time the boys, strictly watched, printed the papers relating to the 
public debt. The scholars are also obliged to work in the house and gar- 
den. The institution is divided into two separate parts, and contains in 
the one sixty-nine boys, and in the other thirty-eight girls. Within the 
last forty-two years, 1,G19 children have been admitted. The capabilities 
of the establishment will soon be increased, for a new building (200 feet in 
front, 80 ft. deep) has been erected at a cost of 140,000 thalers. It is fur- 
nished with every convenience, with large enclosed play -grounds. The 
children are divided into twenties. Every "twenty" forms a "family," 
over which a special educator presides. 

It was natural that the example of the capitol should be followed by 
other places. Many different societies worked to lessen the number of 
young criminals, which had alarmingly increased. New Reform Schools 
were organized after the plan of Berlin, at Memel, Frankfort, Posen, 
Konigsberg, etc. Not one has ever equalled the model. This is to be re- 
gretted, for through these Schools, communal aid could be given to a large 
class, who now fall into crime from want of care. These institutions, with 
the exception of Stettin, disappeared, when the government erected special 
Houses of Correction for young criminals. Such departments were soon 
established in Saxony. A House of Correction was founded at Hamburg, 
1829. It opened with nineteen inmates. In 1833 it numbered two hundred. 
There are twelve houses of this class in Prussia, three in Saxony, and one 
in Wurtemburg, one at Hamburg and one at Bremen. 

It would appear as if in the north of Germany the distinct interests of 
the Reform School proper had become absorbed in those of the communal 
establishments. This was the more to be feared from the condition of the 
church at that time. Religious feeling only could call the true charitable 
school to life. The people were accustomed to contribute liberally to 
benevolent objects of a more general character. They were not used to 
denying themselves for the sake of farthering missionary work. A few 
scattered communes alone made any attempt of the kind. The ground 
for such labors had first to be won. It was a very different field from 
that of Wurtemburg and Basle, where the spirit of self-sacrifice had been 
fully awakened. Still there were many persons who worked on, hoping 
for co-operative aid, which came at last. Falk and the school at Dilssel- 
thal had much influence on the work, but the great movement began in 
1848. 

Bauhe Haus. 

The success of the North German Reform Schools is closely connected 
with the history of the Bauhe Haus* which was the first of many similar 
institutions in this part of the country. The Rauhe Haus was in its first 

* A full notice of the Rauhe Haus, drawn from the annual reports of the founder and 
the published account of visitors both American and European, will be found in the 
American Journal of Education, Vol. Ill , 5-603, and in Barnard's Reformatory School and 
Education, p. 18, 107. 



600 TUE gekmAn kefokm scuool. 

inception designed by some of its friends as a House of Correction for the 
eity of Hamburg. It was proposed to take the children from the Work 
House for Young Criminals, founded a few years before, and put them 
under the care of the new Reform School ; but the leaders of this educa- 
tional movement introduced an article in the constitution which declared 
that " the new institute did not intend to fill a vacancy in the public insti- 
tutions." By this they lost all aid from the city, but preserved that dis- 
tinctive principle of the Reform School — missionary work among poor and 
neglected children. In this they were in accord with the directors of 
the schools of Weimar, Dtisselthal and Beuggen. The Rauhe Haus has 
admitted (to 1867) 783 children, 176 of whom were girls: 688 have been 
discharged. The number of pupils in 1867 was 129. There were about 
forty Brothers connected with the establishment, and the entire household 
numbered 450 persons. New buildings have just been erected at a cost of 
twenty thousand thalers. 

The experience gained in these institutions confirmed the belief in 
the efficiency of their labor. The great motive power was a conviction 
of the need of organizing the household into families. For Ihis work 
individuals must be selected and trained. These were soon known as 
the Brotherhood of the Rauhe Haus. This Brotherhood represents the 
various social and religious interests which gradually formed the leading 
idea of the Inner, or Home Mission, as the object of the whole. 

Three points in the Inner Mission should be especially noticed as 
afterwards becoming important: 1st. The tendency of inner missions to 
carry out the interests of Christianity by opposing infidelity and worldli- 
ness. Proper men were found in the Brotherhood, willing to devote 
themselves to the work. 2d. The necessity of their independence of 
those civil authorities who only hinder and restrain the full development. 
Finally : The complete poverty of the association, and its dependence on 
God and the charity of His servants. Thus the Rauhe Haus has pros- 
pered. Its example has set the same principles working in many similar 
establishments. 

In order to gain a more definite idea of the influence of the Rauhe 
Haus in this regard, we must consider two periods : First, from the date 
of the foundation (1833) to 1848, when the system had not been fully 
developed. This was a period of great difBculties; a time of consolida- 
tion, of organization, and of preparation for future action. Every energy 
was used in assembling, training and sending out Brothers, as the instru- 
ments of reformatory education. There was at first great difficulty in 
finding proper persons. The first were sent by request from Beuggen, 
in 1834. Of the 1350 Brothers who applied for admission— of whom 460 
actually entered the institution — two only were from Hamburg ; the others 
were from the different countries of Germany. Applications for mission- 
ary Brothers have come exclusively from those distant countries where 
the German , tongue is spoken and the Evangelical Church is found. 
The first Brothers were called into the Baltic provinces of Russia, while 
others found their sphere of labor in the far West of North America. The 
former became directors of Reform Schools in Mitau (1837), Narva (1838) 
and Reval (1842).*^ 



THE GERMAN EEFORM SCHOOL. 601 

The Reval establishment in Russia is organized on the plan of the 
Rauhe Ilaua. There have been 259 children admitted since 1843 ; 20G of 
these have left the school: so that there are now fifty-three children, 
divided into three families, under the direction of Brother Bauer. A 
society of Brothers has also been connected with the school, and ex- 
perienced instructors residing in Reval have undertaken their education. 
Six Brothers are necessary for the care of the three families. The educa- 
tion of the Brothers is especially difficult here, for a successful teacher in 
Russia must possess a knowledge of the language, and of the Esthnic 
dialect as well. Notwithstanding this drawback, thirty-three Brothers 
have been trained at Reval, and sent out as parochial teachers, organists, 
etc. They labor in both city and country, and are stationed from St. 
Petersburg to the Black Sea, and to the boundaries of Eastern Siberia. 

The Brothers sent to America in 1845-7 have been followed by many 
others. They occupy positions as preachers, teachers, directors of Poor 
Houses, and as founders of churches and schools. 

The first field for Reform Schools was offered by the connection of 
the Rauhe Haus with Switzerland. The Brother sent there returned to 
lake charge of the new school founded by the " Swiss Patriotic Society" 
at Blichtelen, near Bjrne. Bdchtelcn has been organized on the plan of 
the Rauhe Ilaus. It consists of four families, with fifty boys, and con- 
tains a training school for teachers, with thirty pupils. There is also a 
farm of 150 acres, which feeds thirty to forty cattle. It has admitted 
250 boys since its foundation, 205 of whom have left. Since its establish- 
ment twenty-six new schools have been founded ; with twelve of them 
Blichtelen directly co-operated. The Berne Reform School in Landorf, 
with forty children in four families, admits condemned criminals only. 
The Victoria Reform School in Klein weber, near Bau, founded on a 
bequest of 000,000 francs, contains seventy-two children in seven families. 
Aarwangen, for condemned children, has forty-five children in three 
families. There are three other schools in Zurich, Lucerne and Vaud, 
each numbering 200 pupils, divided into three families. The one in 
Lucerne is a Catholic foundation. In the other Evangelical Reform 
Schools the directors (House Fathers) have been trained at Blichtelen. 
The school of Geneva, founded on the model of the Rauhe Haus, will be 
mentioned hereafter. 

The influence of the Rauhe Haus was first visible in France in 1839. 
M. Demetz, then a Councilor of the Court Boyale, now Honorary Member 
of the Court Iinperiale of Paris, having satisfied himself that the proper 
mode of treating the depraved was not known in France, visited other 
countries, and gained a thorough knowledge of the Rauhe Haus system. 
Convinced that this was the true method, he returned to France and 
founded the Reform School at Mettray,* near Tours, over which he still 
presides. 

Mettray was the first Cohnie Agricole Penitentiare in France. The plan 
is much modified from that of the Rauhe Haus. It is divided into families, 
which live in se parate houses. It is a Catholic institution, and contains 

* For history of Mettray see Barnard's Reformatory Schools, etc., p. 147-200, and 
American Journal of Educaticn, p. Vol. III. 667-736. 



g02 THE GEKMAN KEFOKM SCHOOL. 

700 pupils. To obtain the necessary assistants, lay brothers are trained 
like those of the Rauhe Haus. They first assist in teaching the children, 
and are then sent to new institutions. The success of Mettray has led to 
the establishment of 411 similar organizations, of which twenty- three are 
penitentiary schools. All carry on agriculture and an extensive system 
of mechanical labor. 

A Reform School was founded in Sweden by Baron Gyldenkrok, after 
visiting the Rauhe Haus. 

While the Riuhe Haus influenced the countries round Germany, and 
prepared the way for the introduction of its system and principles, Ger- 
many itself was for a time comparatively unaff'ected by its reformatory 
work. But after 1840 a change was manifest. This was brought about 
by a more thorough acquaintance with the working of the school, the 
interest felt in it by prominent men of the time, and its connection with 
the Foreign Missionary Society. The subject of home missions began 
to be agitated. A strong wish was expressed to unite with the Ham- 
burg school in working for the depraved. Large and small societies were 
formed for missionary work, the first of which was at Celle, in Hanover. 
Between 1843 and 1847, the first Reform Schools of North Germany sprang 
into existence. Rostock was founded in 1843 by Professors Krabbe and 
Hotfman and Senator Passow ; Celle, by Pastor Hugues, in 1844 ; Lubeck, 
in 1845, by Dr. Lindenberg ; Bremen, in 1847, by Drs. Treviranus and Post. 
The directors of these various schools were all from the Rauhe Haus, and 
followed its plan of family organization. Most of them practice farming 
with success. The school of Celle led to the establishment of a second 
one at Schladen, Hanover, in 1853, directed by a former pupil of the 
Rauhe Haus. In Mccklenberg, through the exertions of Professors Hoff- 
man and Krabbe, aided by many prominent clergymen, a general society 
was formed, which soon absorbed the special organizations. 

Reform Schools were established at Stralsund, Pomerania, in 1847, by 
Count Krasson ; at Rligen, Brandenburg, and at Berlin by Schmidt, in 
1847 ; in Athaldensleben, Saxony, by Von Nathusius. A Reform School 
was projected in Flensburg in 1833, but established fourteen years later by 
Volquarts. The New Brotherhood was founded at Duisburg in 1845 by 
Pastor Fliedner, one of the former teachers of the Rauhe Haus. This 
school now contains 120 Brothers, and 250 children have been admitted 
since its foundation ; their number was thirty-five last year. A hospital 
for the poor is attached to it, accommodating twenty-two persons. The 
expenses in 1864 amounted to 17,000 thalers. 

In 1846 the festival of Pestalozzi was the occasion of the foundation of 
several institutions for youth. Many of these, mistaking the spirit of the 
reformer, expressed their opposition to decided Christian training. In 
1847 a correspondence relating to Reform Schools and Brotherhoods was 
carried on between the Rauhe Haus and two Catholic bishops of Moravia 
and Austria, but with no definite result. 

The second period in the history of the Rauhe Haus commences with 
the year 1848. Ten Brothers went to Silesia to help nurse the sick during 
the raging of a pestilential disease. More than 10,000 children had become 
orphaned. The Prince of Pless olfered for their accommodation the houses 



THE GEKMAN REFORM SCHOOL. g03 

at the Baths of Charkow. The system of family organizatiou was directly 
introduced under the direction of a Brother. A second institution was 
established in Warschowitz. Both were intended for those Protestant 
orphans whose parents had died of the typhus fever. They were afterwards 
dissolved. The Catholic orphans were taken care of by the orders of 
Prince Bishop Diepenbrok. It was impossible for the Rauhe Haus to 
furnish all the assistance that was required. Several new Brotherhoods 
were therefore founded, viz. : at Zlillchow, near Stettin (1850), at Reinstedt 
in Saxony (1850), and at PuckenhoflF, near Erlangen (1851). It was the 
object of these organizations to train laborers for the Reform Schools. The 
inspectors were from the theological class of the Rauhe Haus. A few of 
the schools connected with the Brotherhoods merit a more particular 
description. 

The institution at ZilUchow is under the direction of Gustavus Zahn, 
the poet and author. In 1865 the Brotherhood had eighty-nine regular 
inmates, twenty-nine of whom are now working in different educational 
establishments. The Reform School founded in 1831 discharged the girls 
in 1847. In 18G4 the whole number of children received was 413. In 1850 
the inmates had numbered thirty-nine. At this time about sixty pupils are 
assembled in four families. A. fine garden of fifteen acres is cultivated, and 
a small farm with twelve cows is taken care of by the scholars. They are 
also employed in making plastic representations of biblical history for 
Christmas, and in the sale of religious pamphlets. A hospital, belonging 
to the order of the Knights of St. John, is united to the institution. The 
Brothers of Zilllchow attend to the sick. The Provincial Institute for 
Idiots is also under their care, with a special director. The appropriations 
for its support amount to 11,000 thalers per year. Its situation and extent 
make it the center of all reformatory enterprise in Pomerania. 

The Reform School and Brotherhood at Lindenhof near Neinstaat, 
which was reorganized under Nathusius in 1850, were at first conducted 
by assistants from the Rauhe Haus. They are now directed by Dr. 
Ilardiland, formerly a missionary to Borneo and South Africa. The. 
number of boys admitted to the Lindenhof from 1850-57, were 355. 
Two hundred left, so that the number of pupils is now fifty-five. There 
are six brothers in the home. Ten of the forty-six regularly graduated 
brothers, are directors of Reform Schools, while six are assistants. Six- 
teen work at a trade, four are assistants in asylums for the blind, others 
are teachers and foreign missionaries. The annual expenses of the in- 
gtitution amount to six thousand thalers. 

The Reform School for boys recently founded (1851,) at Puckenhof, 
near Erlangen, which is connected with that school for girls previously 
established by Pastor Kraft, has also a Brotherhood joined with it, under 
the direction of men, educated in theology. This institution enjoys the 
patronage of the university of Erlangen, but has had but few students 
up to this time. The Reform School numbers thirty-two pupils, eighteen 
boys and fourteen girls. The whole number of inmates is forty-five. 
Annual expenses of 8500 thalers are paid by free contributions. 

The Protestant foundation of St. John, near Berlin, is an agricultural 
branch of the Rauhe Haus, under the same director. It numbers one 



604 



THE GERMAN KEFORM SCHOOL. 



hundred inmates, including twenty-four brothers. It owns 120 acres of 
land, and is provided with excellent buildings. Neglected children are 
received, and even those needing especially careful management. It 
forms an independent parish, with about 10,000 thalers revenue. During 
the last three years over 60,000 thalers have been spent for new buildings. 
A French Brotherhood was established (1865,) near Geneva, by Dr. 
Bertim. It is under the direction of a French clergyman, M. Tophel,' 
and has a Reform School for boys connected with it. 

The accompanying table (A) exhibits the gradual development of the 
Reform School of Germany. 

PROGRESSIVE DEVELOPMENT OF GERMAN REFORM SCHOOLS. 



COUNTRIES. 


1813-30 


1831-47 


1848-67 


TOTAL. 


1. 


Sax e- Weimar, .... 


1 






1 


2. 


Prussia, .... 














(a) Province of Prussia, 




3 


2 


19 


24 




(b) » Posen, . > 






1 


5 


• 6 




(c) " Silesia, 




i 


G 


24 


31 




(d) " Pomerania, 






3 


28 


31 




(e) " Brandenburg, 






i 


1 


35 


37 




(f) " Saxony, . 






1 


2 


15 


18 




(g) " Westphalia,. » 










13 


13 




(h) " Rhine, . \ 






i 


1 


10 


12 




(i) " Schleswig, . . 










1 


1 




(k) « Holstein, . 
















(1) " Lauenberg, .\ 
















(m) " Hanover, 




V 




2 


4 


6 




(n) " Hessia, 








1 


2 


3 




(0) " Nassau, .^ 










3 


3 




Catholic Schools, . 










9 


9 


3. 


Wurtemberg, 






7 


19 


6 


32 


4. 


Baden, .... 






1 


2 


12 


15 


5. 


Hamburg, . 








1 




1 


6. 


Lubcck, .... 








1 




1 


7. 


Bremen, 








1 


1 


2 


8. 


Mecklenburg-Schwerin, 1 








1 




1 


9. 


Meclvlenburg-Strelitz, ''' . 










1 


1 


10. 


Hesse-Darmstadt, ^ . 








1 


3 


3 


11. 


Bavaria, . . ■;«< 








3 


75 


78 


12. 


Kingdom of Saxony, ' . 










17 


17 


18. 


Lippe, 










1 


1 


14. 


Bernburg, 










2 


2 


15. 


Reuss-Schleiz, 










1 


1 


16. 


Reuss-Greiz, 










1 


1 


17. 


Anhalt-C5then, 








1 


1 


18. 


Oldenburg, 








1 


1 


19. 


Brunswick, . 








1 


1 




Total. 




16 


48 


290 


354 


In Switzerland, . 










44 




Alsace, .... 




1 




1 


2 




Russian Provinces, 






4 




4 


Total, .... 


17 


52 


291 


404 



THE GERMAN KEFORM SCHOOL, 605 

In this table three periods are distinguished, viz : The data of the 
establishment of the first Reform Schools, between the years 1813-1830; 
their introduction into central Germany, between 1831 and 1847; the 
efforts of the inner mission after 1848. The total number of Reform 
Schools, given as 404, is probably greater, as those of recent erection 
could not be added for want of reliable information. From annual 
reports we learn that one half the institutions of Germany number 5,235 
pupils; the total number in 404 schools may safely be estimated at 12,000. 
The average cost per pupil is variously given at fifty to one hundred 
thalers. At the smallest estimate of fifty thalers, the yearly expense 
would amount to 600,000 thalers, which is contributed by the benevolent. 

Societies in aid of Reformatory Education have not been specially 
mentioned, yet a few words may be added with regard to them. One 
hundred and twenty-six children were taken care of during 1862, by a 
society of Baden. In Wurtemburg there are eighteen such societies, 
besides that of the ladies of Stuttgart. The Educational Societies found- 
ed by Pastor Brain at Neukirchen, (1850,) have labored with great success. 
Each of these societies has its special agents, generally young clergymen, 
who visit christian families throughout the country to induce them to 
take charge of neglected children. The society of Neukirchen provides 
for 132 children, 117 of which arc in 100 families in the district. There 
are similar societies at Eberfeld, with 148 children, and Barmen, with 86; 
also smaller societies at Romsdorf, Solingen, Schmelm, each providing 
for 12 to 30 children. All these societies in Rhenish Prussia, maintain from 
450 to 500 children, and when those in Baden and Wurtemburg are 
added, the number swells to 12,000. This seems a great result of the 
labor begun in 1848, and is greater yet when we consider the progress in 
other countries. 

In England alone, 291 institutions of this class were founded between 
1840 and 1S50, containing nearly 23,000 pupils, and expending annually 
about £289,000. The Ragged Schools are not included in this estimate. In 
186G, there were 1168 of these in London alone, containing 41,291 pupils, 
taught by 3,241 teachers, the greater part of whom received no compen- 
sation for their labors. 

The results in Germany are the more remarkable when we consider 
how the revolutionary feeling of the time predicted the certain downfall 
of all Christian schools. This spirit was so violent that, in France and 
Switzerland, the populace demolished the buildings belonging to the 
institutions, and similar outbreaks were feared in Nothcrn Germany. But 
now a firm faith in God, and in the blessings attendant on His service, 
awoke. The languishing schools revived. Hundreds were established, 
and grew prosperously. It was then said that reform was a fashion, 
which would soon pass away. But in this noble work of educating and 
caring for the bodies and souls of the neglected, all classes united, old and 
young, men and women, rich and poor, peasant and citizen, servant and 
princess. Societies, communes, governments, all worked together. 
Private persons opened their houses and princes their palaces to receive 
the children, and accustom them to the life of a christian family. Fearful 
pictures of sin did not appal them, but only incited to fresh acts of 

50 



606 THE GERMAN REFORM SCHOOL.' 

charity. All gave what they could for the building of Reform Schools, 
some their hard-earned pence, others thousands. The very poverty of the 
institutions gave them a strong hold on the hearts of the people. 

King Max of Bavaria, in a decree of Nov. 20, 1851, expresses his 
pleasure in the establishment of Reform Schools in various parts of 
the Kingdom. He thinks that their unrestricted management is an 
essential feature, and that the State should only aid the administration 
and progress of the organizations at certain times. A Catholic priest of 
Bavaria, who read one of the publications of the Rauhe Haus, was 
induced to found a school on its plan. The united efforts of both Catholic 
and Evangelical Churches, resulted in the erection of 75 Reform Schools 
in Bavaria. In Baden, 15 schools were organized. The northern prov- 
inces of Prussia began the work with success, which has been shared by 
Saxony and other lesser states. The great missionary work of the 19th 
century has not reached its consummation. Indeed, it has scarcely been 
begun in many places most in need of it. Obstacles exist everywhere, chiefly 
resulting from that deep national struggle for belief in revelation. For 
this reason, the leading principles of the work of Reform should be 
presented in detail, as clearly as possible. 

III. PUPILS AND THEIR CLASSIFICATION. 

The work of each institution must be simplified as much as possible. 
Elements must be classified ; conflicting ones removed, those that agree 
brought into distinct departments. This limits the work of each institu- 
tion, concentrates its power and divides the labor into separate groups, 
thus forming an organized system. 

(1 ) The first question to be considered is that of the religious 
denomination of Reform Schools. "We may regard them as independent 
Christian enterprises, belonging to some particular ('hurch, or as con- 
fessions of a certain faith. They are in this way distinct from the houses 
of correction belonging to the State, in which religious differences do not 
receive much consideration, although within a few years, divisions have 
been made as in the Reform Schools. There is now but one mixed 
Reform School in Germany and Switzerland. In Baden, the Archbishop 
insisted that there should be a separation of faiths, and that the Roman 
Catholic portion should be submitted to his authority, but this was not 
done. It appears that the Roman Catholic Church has taken hold of the 
education of the neglected children most zealously, but we know very 
little of their views and plans in the matter, owing to the want of reports. 
Dr. Ilirscher's treatise is therefore an interesting authority. He describes 
the Reform School as a penitentiary, not as much for punishment as for 
correction. The rules of the institution must be severely maintained ; 
every error punished. Hard work and hard discipline are indispensable. 
He considers religion as a means of education which works by fear. The 
avenging justice of God is strongly brought forward, while the pardoning 
mercy through Christ is more lightly touched upon. Perhaps these views 
have not been generally adopted in the practice of the Roman Catholic 
Church. 



THE GERMAN EEFOEM SCHOOL. 607 

In France the schools are of a religious character, but are more 
Christian than sectarian. This is particularly the case with Mettray, and 
many of the farm and penitentiary schools founded by private persons. 

In 1848, eighteen of the forty-one schools of France were under the 
charge of laymen, fifteen cared for by priests and friars. Of the 404 
German Reform Schools, 324 are Protestant and eighty Roman Catholic. 

(2.) Another point to be noticed is, that Reform Schools are 
needed for both boys and girls. Difference of opinion exists as to the 
practicability of uniting the sexes in the same institution. The character 
of the children and the accommodations of the buildings must be taken 
into account. Many of the schools of "Wurtemburg, Baden and Bavaria, 
unite the two sexes. In some of the establishments they are placed in 
different divisions under special teachers. Tubingen and a few other 
schools, the boys and girls occupy different parts of the building. The 
Roman Catholics have consolidated some of their institutions, but have 
placed the boys and girls in separate buildings. Heiligenbrun admits 
girls only. Four or five only of the forty-four schools of Switzerland are 
for girls. In Baden, some of the schools are separate in this regard, 
others not. In the north of Germany, the Reform Schools are devoted to 
the sexes separately. There were formerly a few instances where the sexes 
were placed in one establishment, as at Stettin ; but this did not answer, 
and a separation was made. The pupils of the northern Reform Schools 
are morally more dangerous than those of the southern. The arrange- 
ments of the latter organizations would be ruinous in the north. Occa- 
sionally, as in the Rauhe Haus, both sexes are in one school, but the 
construction of the buildings ensures perfect supervision. The newly 
erected buildings of the Rauhe Haus, were planned in such a way that 
any trouble is guarded against, and an secret interview is out of the 
question. 

Whenever tlse children are particularly vicious, the separation of the 
sexes is generally to be preferred, although the economical wants of the 
kitchen, washing, sewirg etc., make it often desirable to have the girls in 
the same establishment with the boys. The number of girls in the 
Reform Schools is much smaller than that of the boys ; there are fewer 
women in the penitentiaries. This is a general fact. But the quality 
makes up for quantity here, since the depraved girl stands on a lower 
plane than the vicious boy. The most dangerous tendencies of girls are 
secret, their cure more difficult. There are not enough Reform Schools 
for girls, but this is a want which promises to be soon filled. In France, 
the boys and girls are carefully separated. 

In 1862, eight public institutions contained 202G boys ; twenty-eight 
private schools numbered 4578— total, 6604. In the twenty-three private 
institutions for girls, were 1718 children ; and in the two public schools 
160— total, 1878. 

(3.) Another question to be considered is the age of the pupil to be 
admitted or discharged. The regulations of various Reform Schools differ, 
and the character of the institution is in a great measure determined by 
their rules. It is not often that children are admitted before the age of 
eleven or twelve. Before that time, parents will endeavour themselves to 



608 THE GERMAN EEFOEM SCHOOL. 

train llieir children. Some exceptional cases have been presented at seven 
years ; these instances are rare, and difficult to manage. As a rule, the 
admission should not be delayed beyond fourteen j^ears. The pupil should 
be under training about three years. Experience has proved that a last- 
ing effect cannot well be produced in a shorter time. The age for admission 
must not be more than fifteen, or else the school would have inmates 
seventeen years old, which must be avoided. It is desirable that they 
leave the Reform School at sixteen, for they would lose the elasticity 
necessary for those new relations of life for which they must prepare 
themselves. Girls may be kept later. Accordingly, the Reform Schools 
generally contain pupils from eleven to sixteen years of age. Boys of the 
wealthier classes are not usually sent to the Rauhe Ilaus before the age 
of fourteen. Their parents delay in fruitless attempts at reformation. 

(4 ) There is also a social distinction among the pupils of the Reform 
School. We must not forget that these establishments are not Poor 
Schools in principle, though many poor children are admitted to them. 
There is undoubted evidence of the fact that the mi Idle and higher classes 
stand greatly in need of the aid of the Reform School, and will rarely 
apply for it. "Within the last fourteen years, 550 boys from respectable 
families have been received at the Rauhe Ilaus, and the question arises, 
how shall children from these various spheres of life be grouped ? It 
would not answer to bring the children of the higher classes into imme- 
diate contact with the ignorant and degraded. It would be very injurious 
to the pupils to class them together, as if in a penitentiary. The object of 
the Reform School would be lost. Children from the wealthy and educated 
classes would consider the necessary change in diet, dress, and social re- 
lations as a punishment. Now, punishment is not the principle of the 
school. It aims to help the pupil by sympathy, forgiveness, and loving 
care. The school must represent to the scholar his own home as far as 
possible. There should be the same manner of living and way of dress. 
The intercourse and demeanor must be that of a cordial and familiar 
household. The instruction of a pupil in the gymnasium must be ener- 
getically continued, that the preparation of the boy for his future vocation 
may not be hindered. Every agency of moral and mental culture should 
be employed to elevate the being of the pupil. This cannot be done in 
those schools in which the arrangements are chiefly made for the poorer 
classes. A different organization is required. This can be had only in 
those institutions where the means for the highest scientific and literary 
training are provided. It is necessary to classify the pupils according to 
their social rank, and place them in corresponding institutions. 

(5.) Mental and physical health is an indispensable condition for ad- 
mission to the Reform School. An idiotic or epileptic child is a great 
hindrance. An epileptic inmate may infect the others, and should be dis- 
missed at once. An idiot is a burden, restraining the progress of the 
scholars. A few years ago, great sympathy was excited for the idiots. 
Efforts were made to found asylums for them, and the directors of the 
Reform Schools of Reinstedt and Ziillchow were asked to cooperate. The 
result was the establishment of asylums for idiots, under the supervision 
of the directors of these schools. The treatment of idiots and epileptics 



THE GERMAN KEFORM SCHOOL. qqq 

should always be left to special organizations, and never connected with 
reformatory work. 

The Reform Schools should, as far as practicable, remain independent 
of the Communes, or they will become private penitentiaries, compelled to 
admit young criminals. Even if it should seem desirable to aid the State 
authorities in this way, the least appearance of a penitentiary must be 
avoided. Success depends on it. These remarks apply to Reform Schools 
for girls ; but an added caution is necessary. The exposed must be kept 
from intercourse with the specially depraved and fallen, who abound in large 
cities. The danger for the innocent is imminent ; for association with the 
vicious is fraught with temptation. Many of these children, taking ad- 
vantage of their connection with the pupils, seduce them also. The 
womanhood of the girls must be protected, and the fallen on no account 
admitted to the Reform Schools. There should be Magdalen Asylums, or 
special institutions provided for them. These are much needed in Ger- 
many, and it is to be hoped that we shall soon follow the example of 
England and Holland, where energetic efforts have been made for the 
reform' of such young persons. London, as well as other English cities 
has many institutions of the kind for girls under sixteen j'ears of age, some 
of which contain 100 inmates. One of these establishments has admitted 
4000 young girls during the tifty years of its existence ; another 700. Some 
of these institutions are specially designed for the daughters of the better 
class. One of these received during seven years, G73 girls. One of the 
Magdalen Societies maintains fifteen homes, and six family organizations 
for girls not yet prostituted. The excellent asylums erected in Holland, 
through the exertions of Pastor Ileldring, deserve honorable mention. 
Hence, it appears that the proper pupils of Reform Schools should be 
classified into different institutions. 

We now briefly recapitulate the noticeable points in respect to classi- 
Jication :— 

First. Protestants and Catholics must be divided. 

Second. The two sexes should be separated. 

Third. The age for admission should fall between twelve and fifteen. 

Fourth. Pupils must be in good physical and mental health. Idiots 
and epileptics should not be received. 

Fifth. Criminals and fallen females belong to special institutions. 

Sixth. Boys from the wealthier classes should be educated by them- 
selves. 

Two exceptional classes remain : those young children who may be 
cared for by private families, and those who belong to the Reform School 
proper. We will consider the latter class. These children have not led 
solitary lives ; they have been mostly with bad companions, leading or 
led astray. Their sins are various, petty thefts chiefly, and begging, if 
belonging to the poorer class. Success in stealing is joined to growing 
cunning and daring. Resistance to and defiance of authority results. 
Such scholars are expelled from school. Parents lose their influence, 
brothers and sisters lament. The child is often absent from home, and at 
night Anxiety is increased. Those who attempt to save the lost are 
insolently repelled. The poor family share their sorrows. with their neigh.-- 

39 



610 THE GERMAN EEFORM SCHOOL. 

bors ; but the rich conceal their grief, to which shame is added, and fear 
lest an honorable name be sullied. The pastor is consulted, friends offer 
advice. The child is sent to other schools, but in vain. The evil grows. 
No means of punishment has been left untried. Perhaps the mother 
sickens and dies of anxiety, the father of disappointment. The police 
rarely become acquainted with these facts, and the young delinquents 
may yet be saved from the interference of the law if a Eeform School is 
open to receive them. Three thousand such applications have been made to 
the Rauhe Haus from every quarter. How many parents there may be who 
dare not express their need. How shall the Reform School be organized 
in order to save such children ? Is the Reform School really the right 
place for them ? Would there not be greater hopes of success if a family 
could be found willing to undertake the training of such a child ? We 
must now consider this question under the following head : — 

IV. THE FAMILY, OR REFORM SCnOOL. 

Notwithstanding all that has been said and written in favor of Reform 
Schools, and the fact of the many successful institutions of the kind in ex- 
istence, there is much to be said for the family. Where the children are 
simply poor, orphaned, in danger from neglect and exposure, with no pro- 
nounced evil tendencies, the family is undoubtedly the best place for them. 
This is the excellence of the educational and preventive societies on the 
Rhine, in Wurtemberg and Baden. These Societies also provide for 
children in Reform Schools, if, in the opinion of the committee, the pupils 
are not suitable to be taken into families. These are the specially depraved, 
the class now under consideration. The opponents of Reform Schools 
declare that such children should be placed in families. But what family 
would undertake the work. If we exclude those who would re- 
ceive children for remuneration only, the number of families willing to 
engage in the work of reformation would be very small. What Christian 
family would be willing to receive a thieving, unchaste, obstinate, or lying 
inmate, and give loving aid to one, of whom parents and teachers had 
long ago despaired ? Would it be right to bring such a child among the 
well-trained sons and daughters of an innocent home ? Such experiments 
have ended in sending the boy or girl to the Reform School. This is un- 
doubtedly the wisest decision. 

What then are the necessary arrangements of a Reform School ? Edu- 
cational questions of a similar character have to be solved both by the 
Reform School and the Prison. The difference between pupils of Reform 
Schools and the inmates of Prisons has already been shown, yet in one 
respect there is a strong likeness between them ; viz. the morally dangerous 
element always presenting itself in numbers. The danger resulting from 
the congregating of children is that the faults of each maybe increased by 
the contagion of others. Such considerations have led to solitary confine- 
ment in the case of adult criminals. It would be natural to make such local 
arrangements in Reform Schools, if the principles of Dr. Hirscher were 
accepted. He considers Reform Schools as Penitentiaries. The idea of 
solitary confinement may be<;arried out in the case of individals. In La 



THE GEKMAN KEFORM SCIIOOT.. 611 

Roquette, Paris, the system is carried out by means of 500 cells. This is the 
Pennsylvania method, and has been applied to young criminals. They 
are separated day and night. This complete isolation is by most prison 
directors considered too severe, and the method of silent work in company 
during the day is generally preferred. 

This plan of silent work in company is carried out in America.* 
Nearly all the Houses of Refuge and some of the Reform Schools of the 
United States pursue the method at immense expense ; for instance, the 
House of Refuge of New York, founded in 1824. The building is spacious, 
and can accommodate 1,000 children. The entrance is by the central hall. 
There are four wings, each 230 feet long, separated by high outside walls. 
The children are divided into four classes, and each child bears the number 
of its class. Each child has its bedroom. Scarcely any labor is done in 
the open air. The children are together in the work shops. Absolute si- 
lence is imposed, not a word or song permitted. Dinner is brought on 
railways into the central hall, and thence it is conveyed to the different 
wings. The meals are taken in military order, while the thildren are 
ranged each behind the other. Every child is locked up in the evening 
behind oaken doors with double padlocks. Inspections are made during 
the night. On Sundays, clergymen of different denominations hold ser- 
vice by terms. There were eleven Houses of Refuge in America in 1860. 
They were mostly founded' by private means, but are aided by the State. 
Over 20,000 children have been admitted. The average number is 5,000. 
We shall again refer to La Roquette and the American Houses of Refuge; 
but are these Reform Schools? Although these establishments are in 
America founded by benevolence to save the erring, they are not Reform 
Schools. They are, as their titles show, Houses of Reformation, or Houses 
of Refuge for juvenile delinquents. They receive their inmates from the 
hands of justice. The law sentences the child for years, or months ; he is 
discharged when his term expires, not when his improvement warrants. 
The whole treatment is regulated by law. The officers or directors of 
these establishments are trammelled by restrictions, and there is none of 
that liberty so essential in a true Christian education. The German Re- 
form Schools are entirely different in aim and organization. The Ameri- 
can institutions are Houses of Correction. The " Rettungshaus " is a fam- 
ily, the head of which is a House Father. The members of this family are 
not bound together by mechanical rules, but by sympathy and kindness. 
The new-comer is no stranger ; nor will he who leaves be forgotten. In 
this home community that undeniable danger of infection arises, which 
seems to require such institutions as La Roquette and the American House 
of Refuge. Now the serious question arises how to avoid the danger pro- 
ceeding from the association together of a number of depraved children. 
What means must be employed in those cases, where the pupil, because 
of his vicious inclinations, must be separated from his companions. How 
must he be guided, how influenced by other means than punishment, bolts 
and bars, silence and severity? This is a most difficult problem. 

The way the child is received into the school is of the greatest impor- 

* The statistics, classification and discipline of American institutions are not given 
with minute accuracy in the following paragraph. Am. Ed. 



(31^2 '^2E GEEMAN EEFOEM SCHOOL. 

tance. His welcome should be a cordial one. All children have a feeling 
of dread and uneasiness on being brought to the school, ■which is often the 
fault of the parent. The child ought to be told that the House Father knows 
all his former life. The first meeting should not be a business interview ; 
for by it the new-comer forms his opinion of the person who is to take the 
place of father to him. The right moment and way must be found to tell 
the child, that, on his entering the school, all that he has ever done is 
freely forgiven by his friends, and that God's forgiveness will be given if 
he ask for it. This divine pardon he must try to gain. Nobody knows, 
or will know, what his offences have been. Nobody will ever remind him 
cf them, except the House Father, who will never do this, unless he himself 
makes it necessary. Besides the child must be told never to utter a word 
to any one about his past delinquencies, and, if he disobeys in this, punish- 
ment will follow. 

The promise of forgiveness on the one side, and obedience on the 
other, and the requirement of silence from the scholar, constitute the form 
of admissioji into the household. The door of the school is now opened. 
The child must see that perfect confidence is placed in him. He must be 
convinced of the aff'ection of his new friends, he must feel that the past is 
indeed past forever. This is one of the most essential points in the educa- 
tional method of the Rauhe Haus. There are no demonstrations, explana- 
tions, or wearisome rules given ; but the pupil is made to feel that a new 
life is open to him. Contrast a trembling boy entering the American 
House of Refuge, condemned to absolute silence, placed under lock and 
key, regarded with suspicion and dislike, with one receiving a brother's 
welcome in the German Reform School. He is full of hope for a better 
life, and has no dread of punishment. It is easy to see the diflTerence be- 
tween a House of Correction and the family organization of a Reform 
School. It is an undoubted fact, that the pupils of the school feel bound 
to keep their promise of silence in regard to their past lives, and thus one 
great danger, resulting from association with others, is removed. The 
possibility of breaking this promise remains ; still the instances where pre- 
vious experiences have been exchanged are rare. Yet a peculiarly skill- 
ful supervision over the pupils is necessary. There must be a special care 
of each, and great attention is given to this. Such supervision can be 
realized only in a family organization, and all that the true family may do 
in this regard may be done by the family system of the Reform School. 

The next question is, then, how far may the family be represented, or 
rather imitated; for family life can not in reality be brought into connec- 
tion with the education of Uie children. The family is of God's ordination ; 
it exists but once for every man. Father, mother, brothers, sisters can 
never be replaced by other relations, or compared to them. To claim 
that any system can take the place of the family, would be to be utterly 
ignorant of the dignity of that sacred union. So he who holds the place 
of the father in the school, should clearly understand the extent and limi- 
tations of his power. * But each child ought to receive, as he would from 
his father and mother, a loving personal care, corresponding to his needs 
and feelings. This is not easy. The afiectionate supervision of the school 
* The Haus-vater ehould not be called " father." 



THE GERMAN REFORM SCHOOL. 613 

■will alwaj's Le different from the feeling parents have for their children. 
God gives the little ones, to love and cherish whom is the parents' joy. 
The individual pupil does not come to the Reform School as the new-born 
to the family. He is a half-grown child, and on his entrance at least does 
not seem worthy of love, — is rather an object of aversion. The possibility 
that a perfect stranger should love such a child, seems doubtful. Indeed 
the love of Christ for the sinful is necessary. Love for Jesus' sake must 
be the living principle of every action of the Ilaus-vater. The greater this 
love for Christ, the greater is the affection for every child of Ills. One 
difficulty in this personal love and care results from the absence of that 
divine order of the natural family, by means of which the children come 
one by one, at such intervals that the elder may gradually attain indepen- 
dence, and share the care of the younger brothers and sisters. This gives to 
the love of parents for their children its individuality. Greater confidence 
in and sympathy with the elder, greater care and tenderness for the 
little ones. 

The services that children must receive from the family ^re so great 
that God has limited the number of them. All the power of parental 
love is satisfied by this ordinance of God. The law of nature, which is a 
reflection of the law of God, finds no fulfilment in an educational insti- 
tute, far less in a Reform School. In such an institution the House Father 
finds himself surrounded by a group of half-grown children. The 
difference in their ages is slight, and the change of pupils is constant. 
There is no cessation in the work of educating, no accomplishment of it 
as in the family. There the training of the parents ends at last, but the 
training of the school never ends. The duties do not decrease, as in the 
natural family, but increase. The responsibility is greater from day to 
day. Considering the constant growth of educational labor, it becomes 
necessary to limit the number of pupils. This restriction in numbers 
makes the resemblance to the family closer. Experience proves twelve to 
be the proper number, and fourteen or fifteen the exception. As every 
member of so small a circle can be perfectly observed, it is quite possible, 
though difficult, to give personal affection to each child. New comers, 
particularly, shoul dreceive every kind and delicate directions. It will also 
be possible to watch carefully, those who from various circumstances 
require peculiar supervision. 

The second feature of family life to be imitated in our school is the 
companionship in living, working, eating, added to all the enjoyments 
and recreations of home. In this way the child soon feels contented and 
happy in this well-ordered community. The house is such a community 
in which a regard for persons and things is suitably combined. The 
child finds himself not alone, but connected with others mutually aiding 
each other. All are dependent parts of a well-balanced whole. While 
this community is restrained by its directors, each member feels that 
confidence is reposed in him. This love and trust, balanced by a health- 
ful restraint, are the necessary conditions of every home, and of societies as 
well. 

If we consider the organization of existing Reform Schools, we shall 
find that those originating from or influenced by the Rauhe Haus, have 



614 THE GEEMAN EEFOEM SCHOOL. 

the family system more or less developed. This is the case exclusively in 
Northern Germany. In the South west and in all the institutions of early 
date, the pupils are not organized on this basis. This is unfortunate, 
particularly if the number of children is too great for the powers of the 
liaus-vater, and if more is demanded of him than he is able to perform. 
The object of the institution is unattainable by a large number of pupils. 
The intimate relations of family life are impossible. Can a better arrange- 
ment be devised for these large establishments, and is any change in the 
organization possible in order to bring the family system into practice? 
The same question has arisen in regard to the administration of orphan 
asylums. Education in large masses proved unsatisfactory. The exper- 
iment has been tried of dividing the pupils and placing them in families 
in the city and country. But for some reason the old system has been 
readopted. AVe cannot discuss the question of Orphan Asylums here, 
only we must remember that they are not Reform Schools. These 
establishments cannot bear the expense of placing the pupils in families. 
Their proteges must be educated together. Now the question is, whether 
the childrerf shall be placed in smaller insitutions, or the larger establish- 
ments adopt the family system, which seems incompatible with numbers. 
"We are now speaking of private Reform Schools, maintained by the 
liberality of individuals. It could easily be shown that State institutions, 
or Houses of Correction, in which all classess of depraved children are 
admitted in large numbers, have not proved successful. 

Belgium has taken great pains to establish Scales agricoles de reforme, 
at Ruysselede, Wynghene and Beernhem. Since 1851, these foundations 
have been under the direction of the excellent Ilerr Ducpetiaux, Inspector 
General of Belgian Prisons.* 

A more striking example may be seen in the London institutions, 
where, in 1850, G0,000 children are kept in the establishments of govern- 
ment. Plans have been formed for a radical change. These large houses 
of correction are the very reverse of the American systems, but demand 
nevertheless an education of the whole as a whole. 

Since the family organization cannot be adopted, there are but two 
ways open, viz : The institution becomes a school, divided into classes, 
or it is changed into a working establishment. It is usual to balance the 
labor and the learning, but the best arrangement cannot take the place 
of the family system. This seems as yet to be an unsolved problem, 
which must be decided by means of the Reform Schools. To resolve the 
larger institutions into many smaller ones does not dispose of the diffi- 
culty. Our large cities and great territorial divisions, make great 
establishments necessary. No one would think it practicable to divide 
the schools of Hamburg and Berlin, into smaller ones. So the organiza- 

*The Belgian Institutions are lor hoth boys and ^irls, sentenced for crime or 
besnarv. Tlicy are under the adminislrunou of the Minister of Justice. In 1847, 
2G,-.i47 Children were on the prison roll, ^vhicll circumstance caused the erection of the 
Reform hchools. Ruysselede (1851,) has 500 boys, who are employed on the farm, and at 
trades, receiving school instruction. Wynijhene 0!S55,) fits lt.4 boys for seamen. It is 
organized with the family system. Beernhem (1853,) can receive 400 inmates. The 200 
girls are under the care of a "Sisterhood. At Ruysselede, a department was formed to fit 
teachers, but the great expense of the plan rendered it abortive. The pupils are educated 
as assistants. The result was not satisfactory. A State Institution must conform to 
circumttances which in a work of private charity do not exist. 



A 



THE GERMAN KEFOEM SCHOOL. 615 

tion of the Raulie Haus was changed. The great mass was divii.lcd into 
smaller parts called families. The children are not classed according to 
age, improvement or morality. The good and bad, the student, or 
ignorant boy, all varieties of trade are put together. These families are 
merely groups for the purpose of intellectual and social intercourse and 
enjoyment. The title given to these groups, ' family,' has been violently 
opposed, but without reason ; for it is not claimed that these little societies 
take the place of the true family. In order to understand the matter 
perfectly, we must remember the separate families of the Ilauhe Haus, 
(each numbering twelve,) occupy small houses of their own. The space 
devoted to them is a garden of sixteen acres. Twenty houses are 
scattered over it. A separate house for each family is in strict harmony 
with the system of the institution. 

This division of a number of children into several groups, each with 
a certain independence, may be carried out in various ways. But the plan 
of division requires care and thought, or else the unity of the classifica- 
tion, and the success of the work may be destroyed. The simplest 
arrangement seems to be, for children residing under one roof/ to divide the 
building in such a way that each family may have its own apartments 
and separate entrance. This is done by institutions owning a great 
building, which could not well be changed for the system of separate 
houses. The abbey of Diisselthal has introduced this method. In 
Ziillchow, however, a larger house was built in 1850. Its lower story is 
divided into four parts, each with a separate entrance, dwelling room, one 
room for the assistant, a bed-room, washroom and wardrobe for each of 
the twelve boys. This arrangement is considered more convenient than 
the houses of the Ilauhe Hau3. The first of these Raulie Haus dwellings, 
was built in 1831. It was not intended for diff'erent groups of children, 
but on the increase of pupils, was occupied by three families, in three sets 
of rooms. The desire for this family system became so strong among the 
pupils, that for years they have been placed in separate houses, and the 
arrangement has answered admirably. 

The difference between houses and apartments is amount of room. 
Family life is not the same in the narrow limits of a room or two as in the 
house with its belongings. The form of life must, however, be the 
expression of an inner want. Are not the wants created by the surround- 
ings of life ? For example, take the tent life of a regiment of soldiers, 
or the workmen of a factory, whose families live in their own little houses, 
surrounded by cheerful gardens, and contrast the barracks of a garrison 
where men live together in rooms, or in a work house, like that described 
in Schinkel's Sketches of Manchester. 

A large institution may undoubtedly have its inmates in one building, 
with separate rooms, like the soldiers' barracks ; but the success depends 
on the spirit animating the whole. A large Orphan Asylum has been built 
and organized, after long opposition, on the Rauhe Haus plan ; but the fine 
large rooms are generally deserted, while the children play together in the 
halls in a way to be entirely avoided in a Reform School. Still this is 
better than the constant association of large numbers ; but the idea is not 
fuUy realized as when the little families are so situated that no direct 



61 g THE GEKMA^ UEFOKM SCHOOL, 

communication is possible, and where each can live in great retirement ; 
consequently with greater comfort develop their own individuality. "While 
many of the rooms open on one hall, in which as well as on the common 
play -ground, the children can play together, the separate households have 
their own play-grounds, their own flower and vegetable gardens. They 
are like neighbors — distinct yet united ; a condition from which pleasant 
relations may result. This arrangement appears preferable for Reform 
Schools, for the dangerous elements of the various groups are kept apart, 
and it is easy to separate those pupils unfit to associate freely with the 
others. A great many houses may be distributed in this way over one 
large garden. "We add a chapel, the large central buildings, the addi- 
tional structures necessary for agricultural pursuits, etc., placed at differ- 
ent distances. There are flower gardens, vegetable gardens, an orchard, 
stable, fields and meadows. It looks like a cheerful Gennan village, with 
its streets, slight irregularities and apparently undesigned accidental modi- 
fications. The arrangement of the Rauhe Ilaus is on this plan. 

It is interesting to notice how the French have replaced the name of 
village by colonie agricole. The plan and object of the colonie is easily 
seen by the outward arrangements. The School of Mettray, and those of 
similar plan (Zutphen, in Holland), have but one straight street, on each 
side of which houses are erected at right angles. Its resemblance to the 
Rauhe Ilaus consists in this, that the houses are built after the Swiss 
model, which the founder of Mettray observed on his visit to Germany; 
but the want of the cheerful picturesqueness of the German village is sur- 
prising, although its regularity is greater. 

Different in appearance, though the same in principle, is the " Chris- 
tian Family" at Laforce (Dordogne). Its little dwellings are grouped 
around a church. The State Institution of Ohio resembles the Rauhe 
Haus in appearance. A circle of ten houses has been formed around a 
church, in which all meet for worship. The little village is in the midst 
of gardens and woods, and bears the name of State Reform, Farm Village. 
It is for juvenile criminals. It may here be added that in Russia, Switzer- 
land, and in many parts of Germany, Reform Schools of thirty or forty 
pupils have been organized into families, with separate houses. In some 
other places houses are built with projecting wings, which are divided 
among the different families. 

The great want in these isolated organizations is the influence of 
woman. But the occupants of these separate dwellings are not limited to 
the surroundings of their homes. They associate at work, at school and at 
church. There is unrestrained intercourse every day. The experiment 
has been tried of placing a married pair at the head of one of these little 
families. There are serious objections to such a plan, and it is found to be 
impracticable.* Besides, the expense would be greater. There are many 

* The Philanthropic Society of St. George (178S) opened an institution near London 
with twelve children, under the eupervision'of a married pair. By deijrees there were 
four families thus organized. In one of these divisions were tailors, in another shoe- 
makers, etc. In 1792 the society relinquished the plan because of the impossibility of 
finding suitable persons for this position. An entire change was made in the arrange- 
ments, by tlie advice of Mr. Gladstone, in 1849. The institution was transferred to the 
country. The society rented the estate of Kedhill, near London, for the term of 125 
years, and erected buildings after the plan of Mettray. There are now five houses, a 
church and a school. Triuco Albert laid the first corner-stone of the establishment. 



TIIK GEKMAN REFORM SCHOOL. 



G17 



CircutnstaLCcs to be taken into consideration, some of which may be 
noticed. The parents may have children of their own, and in a large 
institution would not a separate organization be required for the training 
of the fifty or sixty new-comers ? The buildings would have to be larger; 
each house would require a kitchen of its own. Then the question of a 
suitable director becomes complicated. Not only must a fitting man be 
found, but the right wife for him. This has been proved to be infrequent. 
But grant that an excellent husband and wife could always be found, 
would not their position as head of a family dissolve the unity of the in- 
stitution ? There can be but one head, the House Father, who can never 
divide his authority and responsibility with twelve others. His influence 
would be destroyed. No establishment can succeed without this central- 
ization of authority. It is not an inspector and director that is needed for 
the Reform Schools, but a House Father and House Mother, by whom the 
character of a house and its inmates can be established. The family with 
a great number of children becomes sub-divided into smaller groups. It 
may become very large when the discharged pupils, as men and women, 
gather families about themselves. If a Brotherhood be connected with 
the school, the members of which, even when absent in other fields of 
duty, are always considered as belonging to the institution, then the whole, 
with its far-reaching ramifications, will still ret:tia the character of a 
family. Events have proved t "is. The central home remains the source 
of strength and support of the whole, and presents the picture of a great 
patriarchal h msehold. The centre of the household work must be the 
House Mother. All the care of the daily needs, the eating and drinking, 
the clothing, is in her busy hands. She silently provides, helps, softens, 
rules. In a family organized on this plan, the female element is not want- 
ing. Its existence is desirable. On a large fiirm, the mother of the fiimily 
overlooks and directs, asoisted by her daughters and servants. So in insti- 
tutions, the j^irls may work under the direction of the House Mother, and 
while the boys are working in field or garden, the girls are employed in 
the kitchen and laundry. Both elements are necessary for a proper fur- 
therance of the general good. Still the Reform Schools cannot all have 
the two sexes represented. There are cases where the House Father has 
no wife, or where his wife is obliged to live away from the institution. 
But in spite c f some difficulties of this kind, the work has progressed 
regularly, for it is the spirit that moves and rules. 

From these considerations, we conclude that the education of neglected 
children should be given up to Reform Schools in preference to families, 
if the institutions are organized in the proper way to insure personal care 
and the social intercourse necessary for the young. What other conditions 
are needful we now propose to inquire. 

V. LOCATION AND EXTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS. 

The acquisition of suitable localities for Reform Schools is generally 
the greatest difliculty at the beginning of the work. When the school is 
to be established near a great city, the land is costly, and even in the 
country special aid is necessary to enable the founders of the school to 
gain possession of the needful space. This assistance may be a gift of the 



CI 8 TUB GERMAN KEFOKM SCHOOL. 

ground or sale on easy terms of land and large buildings. Volter mentions 
nine institutions in "Wurtemburg which were enabled to purchase domains 
and public buildings far below their value. The castles of Beuggen and 
Arnsburg were the gifts of their princely owners. The Abbey of Diissel- 
thal was bought. These have been mentioned already. We know of no 
similar bequests in the north or centre of Germany. Reform Schools 
have been usually begun in old houses bought for the purpose. These 
were afterwards re-arrauged, and new buildings added. Only a few of the 
old institutions are so situated in cities that agriculture is impossible. In 
Wurtemburg, only two or three houses belong to this class, viz. : Silesia 
and Goldberg. The three Reform Schools of Berlin — Urban, das Grune 
Ilaus and the Gossner Ilaus — are situated in the suburbs, and possess more 
or less garden land. 

All the German Reform Schools, and those of Switzerland, Russia, 
Sweden, Denmark, Belgium and France practice agriculture and horticul- 
ture to a greater or less extent. The directors of the schools endeavor to 
extend their area as much as possible. There is always a stock of cattle 
and poultry. The House Fathers work the lands of the large institutions, 
aided by gardeners, overseers and the pupils. 

The buildings of the Reform School belong to that special branch of 
architecture which considers first the definite purpose and use of the con- 
struction. They can never be properly built unless the educational work- 
ings of the schools are perfectly understood. A wall or a door in a certain 
place, the situation of a kitchen, may render supervision easy, and prevent 
not vexation only, but temptation, besides promoting the general well- 
being. 

As a model of its kind, we would mention the edifice at Tuttlingen, in 
Wurtemberg, built in 1827, by the architect Baumgarten. The houses at 
Stammheim and Ludivigsburg have been built after its plan. It is intended 
to accommodate sixty pupils. It is 137 feet long, 28 feet deep, with two 
wings projecting 13 feet. The arrangement of the rooms of the institution 
of Urban, in Berlin, is generally preferred. Its cost was 140,000 thalers. 
The best arrangements for single dwellings, after the Rauhe Haus plan, 
are found in the houses of the St. John's Foundation in Berlin. These 
were erected by Hoffman, Inspector of Public Buildings, after the so-called 
Beehives of the Rauhe Haus. The Elleneshof of Berlin affords a good 
example of building of moderate size. 

Reform Schools should never be in or near large cities. If this be im- 
avoidable, a large garden should be attached to the institution, as at Berlin. 
On the other hand, it is not best to remove them too far from a city ; for 
the parents and friends of the children will find it difficult to keep up the 
proper degree of intercourse, and the personal interest and aid of indi- 
viduals will be in a great measure lost. Besides, pupils, after they leave 
the Reform School, can be apprenticed where they may be under the pro- 
tection of the school, and their attachment kept up by Sunday visits. The 
permanent result in regard to many pupils depends on this after care, and 
this consideration should be decisive. 

Those Reform Schools situated in the country should be at a moderate 
distance from any village, and avoid any intercourse with the inhabitants. 



^kM 



TJIE GERMAN KEFOKM SCHOOL. gjg 

There is very little sympathy felt for these Reform Schools in the country 
districts, and entire isolation would increase the estrangement. Besides, 
the teachers should not be so situated that intercourse with men is im- 
possible. The pressure of his work is heavy on the house father, he needs 
friendly aid and the conversation of outsiders. It is not well for him to be 
alone. 

Plan and Construction' of Building and Grounds. 

We will now present a plan of arrangement for a building for a family 
of ten or twelve boys. The necessary modifications for females will 
readily suggest themselves. The house should be so situated that all four 
sides can receive the sunlight. If there be no regular cellar, the first floor 
should be raised high enough to prevent dampness. The main entrance is 
generally used only by the teachers and visitors. It leads to a reception- 
room, which is reserved for the meeting of the Board of Managers, and for 
ordinary business interviews. For the house parents {haiis eltern), rooms 
on the first floor should be fitted up, in such a way as to ensure their 
privacy. The suite should consist at least of a bedroom and sitting-room, 
with a private study for the house father, where he can work in quiet, 
keep his papers, and hold private conversation with any of the children. 
The room of the house mother must lead directly to the kitchen. This 
room should be of good size, and so arranged that the children can come 
for their meals and lay the table. A provision-room should join the 
kitchen, and communication with the laundry and bleaching-ground must 
be easy. If a maid-servant be kept, her room must be near the kitchen, 
within reach of the house mother, and removed from the boys' quarter 
The room of the house father must be easy of access for the pupils. A 
large sitting-room should be set apart for the pupils, which may also serve 
as a school-room. The table may be used for both dining and study. 
Adjoining this room should be a large work-shop, which must contain 
tools for carpenters', tailors', and shoemakers' work. The school-room 
and work-shop should be separated by folding doors, so as to be converted 
into one large hall on special occasions. Doors lead from the sitting-room 
and work-shop to a verandah and the garden and plaj^ground. A dormitory 
is set apart for the twelve pupils and their teacher. This should have 
closets for bathing and wardrobes. Adjoining, is tlie private room of the 
assistant. There should be a sick-room situated at some distance from the 
bedroom, and one or more spare rooms. A visitors' room may be desirable, 
but is not necessary. In order to avoid all luxury, at the same time to 
preserve the family character, no separate room for prayers has been des- 
ignated. The sitting-room is the proper place for family worship. It 13 
more important to provide good school-rooms, which may serve for the 
worship of the entire family in larger institutions. If the enlargement of 
the establishment was contemplated in the beginning, the kitchen should 
be made at first suitable for the use of a large family. The furniture of 
all the rooms must be simple, neat, and plain, but inviting. The walls of 
the sitting-room should be hung with a few good pictures, a map of Pales- 
tine, and of the country in which the institution is situated. The bedsteads 
should be of iron, the washbasins and cups of tin, kept perfectly clean. 



g20 'i'lll^ GKRMxVN KEFOliM SCHOOL. 

Especial care should be given to the proper laying out of the garden, which 
had better be under the direction of a gardener. Everything that loolis 
like a prison should be avoided. There should be no doors heavily barred, 
no high walls, particularly about the playground, which should be cheer- 
fally situated near the dwelling, and not far from the garden. 

The architecture of larger institutions has been greatly improved by 
the late Belgian architect Dumont, aided by Ducpetiaux of Brussells. They 
erected the buildings of Rnysselede and Beernham, of which plans are 
published in the Expose de la situation des ecoles de reform de liuysselede, 
par M. Ducpetiaux. Bruxelles, 18G1. 

The Educational Corps. 

To get suitable instructors is the first condition of success in Reform 
Schools. In the beginning, the founders of these institutions became their 
directors, the heads of the family. Life devotion to their great cause was 
personified in them. John Falk, Count von der Recke, Zeller, Reinthaler, 
all abandoned their positions in life to become more devoted to the work of 
educating the neglected. Among them we must rank Pestalozzi and 
Fellenberg ; in France, DeMetz, the Lutheran pastor Bost, and others. 
It would be desirable, in all cases, to have found persons of intellectual 
force to give themselves up to the Reform School as Fliedner and Lohe 
did to the deaconess institutions. It is well to secure the good will and 
good offices of men of high social positionj even as amateurs, and the 
more constant support of theologians and pastors, who are in a position 
greatly to aid this enterprize. But the highest success can only be perma- 
nently obtained when the business of conducting this c-lass of institutions 
is considered as a chief, and not as a side object, with devoted and com- 
petent persons. In this way only can the brotherhood— inseparable from 
the idea of the Reform School, the test end and the training field of as- 
sistants and directors — be properly supplied and maintained. Life-devo- 
tion will not alone suffice to found and direct institutions. In the history 
of reformatory movements, mechanics and peasants have been found 
who had sacrificed house and home, and all other work, for this cause, and 
they had made all necessary collections with remarkable fidelity. But 
their want of intellectual power or executive ability, or of good advisers 
in critical emergencies, have often multiplied difficulties, and, in some in- 
stances, not only produced hindrance to sound development, bvit a lasting 
injury. These instances are, however, so rare, that they need not be fur- 
ther considered here. The great question remains to be answered — the 
great problem must be solved— how to obtain true honse- fathers, not for 
one or a few institutions, but for ever,— for all the four hundred Reform 
Schools that have gradually arisen, and which now exist in the German- 
speaking States. 

Not only must directors or house-fathers be provided, but how shall 
the numerous assistants and other functionaries be obtained. Although 
every institution may not need an assistant, yet in at least one half of 
them an assistant is desirable, and in all which are arranged on the family 
principle several are indispensably necessary. An organiz-ition like tlic 
Rauhe Haus is utterly impracticable witliout thirty or forty assistants, and 



THE GERMAN EEFOEM SCHOOL. 621 

in others from ten to twenty are required. In all existing scliocls at least 
300 assistants must be provided— or at least 700 men, -with 400 married 
women as wives, and 409 other persons of special qualifications in devo- 
tion and training, are required to do tlie work of reform schools ; — and the 
corps must be increased by a number as large as there are special institu- 
tions for neglected girls, of which there are now at least forty. This 
number must be kept constantly full — all vacancies of officials by death, 
or exhaustion, or sickness, must be provided for. For a time, in the 
infancy of the enterprise, the training school at Beuggen, and still later, 
the brotherhood of Rauhe Haus could supply the demand, — but now, 
with 400 institutions to provide for, other sources must be provided. 

The simplest way out of the difficulty was to employ the public school 
teachers, or turn the normal schools into training schools; but serious 
objections were raised against this. The older teachers — those who had 
been years at work — were best fitted for the position of directors. To 
these— often married men — a doubtful and precarious support could alone 
be offered. For this he was required to give up a sure salary, the prospect 
of increase, and at last a pension from the State. Several Brothers of the 
Kauhe Haus accepted positions without the promise of any salary. The 
teachers, instead of a stipend, had more constant labor, longer hours of 
work, no leisure out of school, a continuous routine of duty all day, 
including Sunday and holiday, from early morning till late at night. 
Instead of comparative ease, he was to be weighed down by the responsi- 
bility ; he must give up all hope of increase of wages, all expectation of a 
provision for his widow. 

In "Wurtemberg the government has recently placed the House Fathers 
on the same footing with the public school teachers. But this is only m 
Wurtemberg. The duties of a House Father are very different from those 
of a teacher. Of course he must be a teacher ; but beyond this he must be 
a spiritual guide, and, further, must be able to teach a trade and rule ft 
great household. A House Mother is a pressing need; and the question 
is whether the wife of the teacher is qualified to aid in the work. These 
wants are being satisfied one by one. The great need is now of those 
teachers who, with their wives, have the true missionary spirit, which no 
amount of training can give. Without this spirit the Ilef jrm School can 
never perfectly fulfil its object. But must the body of House Fathers be 
recruited from the ranks of teachers alone ? Where else shall we look for 
them? 

The same difficulties arise in reference to the assistants, whose ser- 
vices are indispensable. The quantity and variety of work in a Reform 
School makes personal aid an absolute necessit}', from an educational 
point of view. The assistants represent the House Father, who cannot do 
all things in person. There is often need for prompt, yet prudent, action 
on their part. Oral instruction, though necessary, cannot take the place 
of the personal influence of the teacher. This is all-important in these in- 
stitutions. Where shall such assistants be found ? They, too, must share 
the missionary spirit — must show their manhood not by words, but actions. 
The proper supervision of a Reform School docs not consist in mere 
inspection, but in living, working and playing with the children. The 

51 



Q22 Tiir: geeman kefokm scnooL. 

assistants must be men of ability, full of a child-like, yet serious, spirit. 
Youug teachers, just past their examination, would make excellent aids. 
Unfortunately there is a prejudice against all labor — manual labor particu- 
larly in training institutions — which prevents their graduates having 
technical skill or authority. 

To meet this want, the societies of Wurtemberg, in 18G1, determined 
to train those pupils of the Reform Schools who seemed suitable. A be- 
ginning has been made, but the results are not yet known. The same 
motive led to establishing preparatory schools in connection with the 
Reform School. But the most important step was taken by the government 
of Bavaria, in 1858. On the motion of the Director of the Gymnasium, 
Von Jan, the friend of reformatory education, it was decreed that the 
assistants in Reform Schools who would prepare themselves as teachers 
of the poor should not be required to attend the normal schools, if they 
could pass the final examinations of the teachers' seminary. Some three 
or four years ago, the Prussian government allowed the directors of 
Reform Schools to pass the State examination of teachers. This has been 
somewhat modified, in consideration of the other duties required of such 
persons ; but the examination, if passed, does not render the House Father 
fitted for any other teaching but that of Reform Schools. 

The only sure way of training House Fathers and assistants is to 
establish special institutions for the purpose. Soon after Beuggen and 
Lichtensteiu established their training schools, the Rauhe Haus founded 
the "Brotherhood," with the object of meeting the wants of Reform 
Schools and kindred institutions.* Similar training schools were con- 
nected with Dusselthal, Ziillchow, Neinstedt, Puckenhof and the St. John's 
Foundation at Berlin, in Blichtelen near Berne, in Reval, in Milan near 
Geneva, all of which pursue the object of training principals and assistants. 

In 18G7, an institute was established in Wurtemberg for training 
male nurses, but the instruction in reformatory methods was not excluded. 
?^pplicants for admission into the Brotherhood must be over twenty and 
under thirty. They must bring evidence of a pure moral character, and 
of their devotion to the missionary life of the institution ; they must reach 
a certain educational standard, be prepared in some trade, and express 
their willingness to accept any missionary labor. On entering the Brother- 
hood, they give up their former occupation. Several years of theoretical 
instruction, together with practice among the pupils of the Reform School, 
enable the Brothers to undertake the work in other establishments, and 
finally to become directors of Reform Schools. Though the Brotherhood 
have supplied the wants of many schools, they have not satisfied all. The 
Brotherhood of the Rauhe Haus has sent out from the commencement 
nine clergymen and fifty Brothers, besides a number of Brothers tempo- 
rally connected with other organizations. Many of the pupils, after be- 
coming principals of Reform Schools (in Prussia), have passed the State 
examination for teachers, and thus gained the privilege of that profession. 

* The oriijinal name was "Assistants' Institute," lu tlie sense that those persons 
therein trained in work were members of the Rauhe Haus, not educated for other insti- 
tutions. As macy said that younsr men could not be educated for an independent sphere 
of action, unsuitable persons were deterred from entering. So the name was changed to 
Brotherhood, because the assistants of the Rauhe Haus are called Brotkers. 



THE GERMAN KEFOEM SCHOOL, g23 

The Rcxuhe Haus, to aid young institutions, sometimes lends assistants for 
a year or two. When the Brotherhood and Reform Schools are united, 
they are under the direction of a divine, who bears the title of" Inspector." 

For the training of female assistants there exists the institution of Mrs. 
Jolberg in Baden, and of Wilhemine Canz in Wurtemberg. The primary 
object of these, as well as that of the Frankenstein establishment for 
deaconesses, is the education of teachers for infant schools. 

The same want of assistants for Reform Schools has been felt in other 
countries as greatly as in Germany. In England (1840) steps wore taken to 
found rural institutions for the 50,000 poor children scattered through 
Poor Houses. Drs. Kay and Tufnell established the training school at 
Battersea, for the purpose of preparing the necessary assistants. In 1850 
the government gave the beautiful old castle of Kneller Ilall for the 
establishment of a second institution.'^ 

It has already been stated how Ducpetiaux, in Belgium, obtains his 
assistants. The education of lay brothers in Mettray is similar. Demetz, 
understanding the need of an establishment of the kind, founded the 
training school before a single child was admitted to Mettra3^ In his 
report of 1665, he says : " Ideas are not wanting among us, but men 
capable of applying them, especially when they relate to serious subjects." 
Similar training schools have been formed by lay associations in other 
parts of France, where assistants from the order of the clergy were ex- 
pressly refused. 

The Roman Catholic Church of Germany places its Reform Schools 
for girls under the direction of a sisterhood. In Wurtemberg the boys' 
school is under the same supervision, Hirscher says that the " director 
of a Reform School should have the education of a clergyman, the loving 
and sacriticing spirit of a saint, the prudence, tact and experience of a man 
of the world." How the question is solved practically we do not know. 
But there should be a special call to the work ; for religious enthusiasm 
is the true qualification. 

VII. RULES AND REGULATIONS. 

When the house has been erected, the garden planted, and the 
teachers found, the next consideration must be the rules. The Reform 
School, like the familj', has its prescribed order, through which all move 
in harmony. The main point is not, however, the regulation of a single 
part, but the vinited progression of the whole. Life is the essence, law 
the outward form. 

Many expect that the management and order of a Reform School is 
the most important part of the education. It is like a perfect instrument 
skillfully wcilded, which changes the old into the new, and converts 
the wicked chixl into a good one. Statesmen, churchmen, schoolmasters, 
parents, philanthropists, all talk about it. According to their understand- 
ing of the su' j oct, reform can not only be effected in a certain period of time, 
but depends on the disposition of the principal and his assistants, who 



*Tho institution fit Kneller Hall has been diecontinued, and the Trainini; School 
fit Patt'>r-pi i-t nut restricted to the purposes originally entertained by Dr. Kay, (.Sir 
Jaaiusllay .Shutllewojth ) ii. b. 



624 THE GERMAN KEFOEM SCHOOL. 

can hasten the result by a more judicious application of the methods. 
Ignorant persons, holding this opinion, have sometimes offered money to 
accelerate the changing process, and the success of the institution is meas- 
ured by it. Nor are these persons alone in their judgments ; many pro- 
fessing Christians agree with them. They believe that morality and 
religion can be acquired mechanically. They forget the freedom of the 
man, and that the child in the school must have the same absence of re- 
straint; that it must be allowed to develop its being naturally, or the 
spirit of the Reform School is obscured or lost. 

The source of authority in the School, as in the family, is the House 
Father, who is aided in his direction by the House Mother. His power 
must not come from without, — the authority attaching itself to his posi- 
tion, — but should be the spontaneous expression of his character. The 
parents of the house are the living law, which emanates from them and 
is recalled by Ihem. Their rule is like that of the Good Shepherd, who 
will bring back the lost to the fold, and will never cast out those who come 
to Him. 

The spirit of the house should be the first object ; the next should be 
the order of the household, which should not be too rigid, but consider 
the interests of the individual as well as of the whole. Tlie characteristic 
of the Reform School is its Christian life. This is not essentially different 
from the life uf any Christian family. 

The regulations of the School are in nothing artificial. They are 
based on the wants of the pupils. This must be particularly considered. 
To carry out the government of the household understandingly each 
pupil must be considered. The first rule of entrance has been spoken of. 
Nothing must remind the inmate of his former life ; he must meet kind- 
ness and complete forgiveness ; he must feel that he is a child of Christ. 
The intercourse must express confidence ; therefore, the Reform School 
has no walls or fences, no locks and bolts, no espionage. Everthing must 
express love, — nothing awaken doubt of it. This love is best expressed 
to the child by a watchful care over him. A child entering a House of 
Correction hears of nothing but punishment, feels nothing but force, sees 
nothing but bolts and bars. All the regulations are based on the con- 
demnatory law. 

There is nothing more required of the child in the Reform School 
than in the well-regulated family. As in the family, the daily routine 
centers in certain periods. These are the beginning and close of the day, 
and the meal-times. All are assembled at table. The meals should be 
simple, appetizing and nourishing. They are taken after previous periods 
of work. The intervals are filled by various occupations, school instruc- 
tion, work and play. Whatever is needed for the household is procured 
by the pupils when it is possible. So they learn the value of their own 
exertions, and the need of mutual aid, the pleasure of serving one another. 
The whole life is a service. The highest is but a servant. To rule is to 
ferve. This the children see exemplified in the directors of the house, 
and they gain a fondness for serving in their turn. The most important 
form of the day is that of prayer, when all meet together and quietly 
prepare for Sunday. Sundays, holidays and festivals gladden the year. 



TUE GERMAN KEFOKM SCHOOL. 625 

The celebration of the birthdays is not forgotten. The poor of the 
vicinity are remembered, and each pupil is encouraged to save fur char- 
itable purposes. The child should be made to perceive how pleasant 
intercourse with his father and mother is becoming. Not to interfere the 
least with this relation, the House Father and Mother are never called 
father and mother by the pupils. Many parents find again in the Reform 
School the long-lost love of their children. 

It would be easy to extend each division of this subject, but enough 
has been said to show how various are the enjoyments shared by the 
members of this family, how improving the duties imposed. Every- 
thing in the rule of the household has its time and place ; everyone con- 
forms to that time and place. The elements of family order are impressed 
in this way on the pupils. In the parental household the government is 
necessarily mobile, — easily broken by the children. But in the Reform 
School this is not so. There can be no arguing tlie reasons for obedience, 
but silent conformity to the rule. The pressure of this moral force is 
remarkable. Many an obstinate and ungovernable boy, whom a father's 
severitj'-, a mother's prayers, or a teacher's discipline could not move, 
seems transformed m the school. He yields to the gentle but powerful 
current, and is borne unresistingly along. Children whom bolts could 
never keep within their homes, come into this life of freedom, and never 
transgress. No special means of discipline are needed. Force would, 
dissolve the bonds of this new life. No wall or roof would be too high for 
one who was resolved to escape. But they are free, — they can go if 
they choose. Only a silent, tender, all-pervading spirit keeps them. 

Of course this new order of things comes very hard on many children, 
although they are attached to the household. The difficulty proceeds from 
physical disorder and want of cleanliness. Among the poorer classes, 
poverty, neglect, the condition of the dwellings, causes bad habits and 
blunts the senses of the children. The school must change all this. The 
order of the house must be insisted on. Punishments are rarely ad- 
visable ; patience, forbearance and persistent, gentle teaching cure the evil 
by degrees. 

The manners and customs of the difiFerent countries must determine 
in some degree the daily routine. But every house has introduced family- 
prayer, hours of work and play, and the observances of the Sunday. The 
practical equalization of study and work presents some difficulties, as 
yet, which experiments will soon settle. 

With regard to meals, while the poverty of the children must be re- 
membered, anything like beggary in the establishment must be avoided. 
If there are in the school wealthy children who pay their board, this 
must be taken into account, that parents and children may be satisfied. 
All should have milk daily, and meat should be furnished two or three 
times a week at least It has been observed in small institutions that 
meat increases the physical health of the children, although their moral 
improvement is not affected by it. As the schools have gardens and or- 
chards,, the children can have plenty of fruit and vegetables. 

The clothing should be clean and warm. They should not wear a 
miiform. Good carriage of the body should be demanded.. The Reform 

40 



^26 THE GERMAN EEFOKM SCHOOL. 

School only admits lieallliy children, yet many are scrofulous, and need 
great care, a regular and simple diet, clothing warm and clean, personal 
neatness, well-aired rooms, with a change in occupation. These are the 
conditions from which health results. 

Every reformatory institution should have a special room for the sick. 
Every indisposition should be cared for at once. The attendance of a 
physician should be required even in cases of slight ailments. 

VIII. WORK AND INSTRUCTION. 

In the Reform School, work, study and recreation should be so equal- 
ized as to promote and help each other. The problem of popular educa- 
tion is solved in these institutions as no where else ; for elsewhere the 
element of freedom is wanting. The success of the training would not be 
complete, if the pupils had instruction beyond the walls of the establish- 
ment, that is if they attended a public or parish-school, for the necessary 
order in the division of the day would be lost. And there would be fail- 
ure too, if the school were merely a school, and the other employments 
made secondary to instruction. 

Again, if the institution requires tlje pupils to devote themselves to 
labor, by which money is made, the aim of the Reform School would be 
lost. The practice of parents to employ their children in factories where 
wages are earned, is too often the cause of wickedness and neglect. All 
monotonous and stupifying labor should be abolished from the Reform 
Schools. Under this head may be classed the occupation of pulling flax, 
horse-hair, manufacture of pasteboard boxes, etc. Still more ruinous la 
the practice of sending pupils to work in factories. 

It should be made a rule that the family divisions of a Reform School 
should prepare with their own hands, as far as may be, whatever is needed 
for use. This may be done quite extensively, if the proper attention 
be given to the work. Success in this depends mainly on the director, 
who must be a person of administrative power, and have had special 
training in the technical parts of various trades. The house-mistress 
must superintend the household work in every detail, and overlook the 
sewing. Both should put their hands to work, whenever necessary. A 
sufficient number of persons should belong to the establishment, in order 
that the system of labor may be fully carried out. When this is done, the 
results are most important. The work is classified, performed with earn- 
est diligence, and finished with skill. When the directors understand 
their calling, this system of labor can be carried out in a small institution 
of twelve children. 

The importance of such a work is two- fold. First, the training of 
the mind and hand in any technical work. The established rule of any 
craft will not appear arbitrary to the boy, but necessary and pleasant to 
submit to. The quick, successful handling of a plane, hatchet, or plough, 
distinguishes the boy. He feels pride in becoming a good farmer or join- 
er. Work puts a definite goal before him. By determination he can 
reach it. He tries and succeeds. It is the same with the girl in her femi- 
nine crafts. These results cannot be attained without great diligence and 
perseverance. Repeated trials are necessary. All find the need of mutual 



^.^ TUE GEIIMAX KEFOIIM SCHOOL. 627 

a'd, without wliicli no one can succeed. The pupil will suffer at first 
from the restraints laid upon him by his work, but all grows easy when 
he finds that endurance, thought and determination have attained the 
Avished-for result. Then the work is done without compulsion ; the will 
is strengthened and purified. Where the pupil is anxious to know the in- 
tricacies of the craft, the whole man is called out, and education begins. 
What else could take the place of healthy labor in this respect ? 

The second point gained by such labor is that it becomes a prepara- 
tion for the future calling. There can be no more efficient means of fur-l 
thering a good education for those who in the future must depend on 
manual labor for their support. They have learned that labor forms part 
of human existence, that a higher want is satisfied than the desire of 
earning money merely, that he who can work possesses a capital .which 
he is in no danger of losing, and which gives him power and reputation. 
The result of such a system of training is, that most of the scliolars leav- 
ing the institution are able to earn their living, which could hardly 
have been expected of any one of them when they entered. The statisti- 
cal table in the 12th Division will show this sufficiently. 

Nothing perhaps has been eBore instrumental in bringing about these 
results in the Rauhe Ilaus thau its family system, which influences so en- 
ergetically the various divisions of labor. No familj-- will tolerate a " lazy'' 
member, but urges him on to diligence. The family considers itself 
morally responsible for the existence of such a member, who would bring 
disgrace on it. The utmost is' tried to bring him into a better way. This 
fj.ct shows one of the results of this organization. 

We must now briefly consider the ^cork done in the establishment. The 
first object must always be the dwelling-house and its belongings. This 
is required of the family of every small mechanic, and to some extent 
from others, at least as far as the daughters of the house are concerned. 
The abode of the children is thereby endeared to them. Here in the sit- 
ting-room, bedroom and kitchen their earliest wants are satisfied. Every 
day begins with a local renovation, restoring the original order and cleanli- 
ness to the rooms. The House of Correction cultivates these virtues to 
some extent, although a high degree of perfection is impossible. 

The Rauhe Haus goes farther than order and neatness, and cultivates 
the sense of beauty by embellishing the place of abode. There should 
be flowers and pictures in every Reform School. Among the lower orders 
of our population a germ of this love of ornamentation is found, which 
finds gratification in common pictures. This innate sense of beauty should 
not bedcspised, but raised and purified. All those tasteless pictures, which 
are often the object of misguided piety, should be excluded. Children 
readily learn the habit of giving eacli other pleasure. They gain that 
affection for their dwelling-place, of which the families from which they 
sprang were ignorant. In a very simple way the ideal side of family 
life may be cultivated. The world owes this to Christianity. It is a 
very important point in education, one which we cannot insist too 
strongly. 

The domeistic duties may be divided into two classes, viz : daily per- 
sonal duties, like making beds, etc., and those voluntary, extraordmary 



g28 THE GEKM.^ EEFOKiT SCHOOL. 

ones, which are suggested by the attachment of the members of the fami- 
ly. Among these are birthday and Christmas preparations, and the deco- 
ration of the house on festive occasions. After these domestic labors come 
the manual labors proper. These consist in the manufacture of various 
implements needed in the house, — of clothing, shoes, etc., and working in 
the field or garden. The Reform Schools of Germany and Switzerland 
are, in different degrees, small agricultural colonies. Where farming, a 
trade, and domestic labor go hand in hand, and the common life is made 
pleasant by mutual aid, — not compelled, but given voluntarily, — an element 
of vast educational and social importance will be developed. The proper 
value of work is learned, and the knowledge of the meaning of property 
acquired. These are great benefits, i 

One of the chief aims of the Reform School is to impress the pupils 
with regard for the sacredness of property. Many of them have been led 
astray by transgressing the law of property. This is more easily accom- 
plished with children than with grown-up thieves, to whom the idea of 
the sacredness of property is unintelligible and ludicrous. The practical 
lesson enforced by a life of labor is of the greatest importance. The in- 
stitution may cultivate this feeling still more, by giving the pupil some 
palpable result for diligent labor, placing him gradually in possession of 
some amount of property, be it ever so small, which naturally takes the 
form of a savings-box. Having and saving are ideas essentially belonging 
to every child. The pupil of the Reform School should be trained to a 
practical understanding of the two ideas. The system first introduced 
into the Rauhe Ilaus has been imitated by the saving-tables of the chil- 
dren of other institutions. As Pastor Wilhelm Baur does not mention it 
in his report of the Rauhe Haus, a short account may be of interest ; for 
the method has had the best possible cfi'ect on the work and social inter- 
course of the children. 

The beginning of a savings-box is made at the time of entering the 
school, when every child receives eight schillings (Hamburg currency), 
from the House Father. The parents of course are not prohibited from 
giving presents of money to their children. This can be done when visits 
are made. Notice must be given to the authorities, and the money at 
once put in the place assigned for it. Besides this, a few pennies are 
added at the end of every week to the account of each diligent child. 
The little sum increases month by month, and is recommenced at the 
beginning of the year. In some fortunate cases this sum may annually 
amount to eighteen shillings. It does not count as a reward of labor, but 
is a gift merely. The chief point is gained in putting a little property 
into the hands of the children. It is true that they have not the 
control of it, but every child has a savings-table, giving an exact account 
of income and expenditure. The money is at the free disposal of the 
child, after consulting the proper persons, for buying flowers, birthday 
gifts, or giving to the poor. The total amount belonging to the children 
is at present 706 Prussian dollars, 395 of which belong to former pupils 
of the institution. • Out of this money, the repairs for damages are to be 
paid, and in this way an excellent method of punishment for carelessness 
is provided. Each child has clothes, a small garden, and tools confided 



THE GERMAN REFORM SCHOOL. Q29 

to his care, for wliicli he is made responsible, and so the idea of property is 
in various wa3's impressed on his mind.* 

As the family is thus connected with the labor of its Various members, 
and the work distributed through the day maintains the existence of the 
family, so the school must be a link in the chain of the organization, and 
not an appendix merely. This would be the case if the school were not 
composed of the children of the institution, but when they formed a 
part of some other school. By the temporary dismissal of the pupils 
from the institution, they would not only be exposed to temptation, but 
would endanger the well-being of the village school, and give additional 
trouble to the master, to which he might justly object. In cases where 
the House Fathers were men of no education, there certainly was no other 
way of satisfying the demands of the school authorities than to appoint a 
separate teacher, or call in the assistance of the village school. In many 
places the utter incompetency of such arrangements has been reorganized, 
and more competent House Fathers appointed.f 

When the House Father can be the teacher also, everything assumes 
its just proportions. The only danger is that the establishment may 
assume too much the character of a school. This has sometimes been 
the case when the House Fathers have been school-masters. The tempta- 
tion is great to overlook their present duties for their former ones. This 
danger is increased where men hold the doctrine that the school may take 
the place of the family, and be essentially the educator. In such instances 
the danger of the school's absorption of all other means of discipline is 
imminent. If the establishment should lose its labor system, it would be 
deprived of all its blessings, and cease to be a spot where, by gentle means, 
the working powers of the hand are developed, the character formed, the 
idea of self-help awakened, and the desire for mutual aid promoted. The 
question is to find the relative value of school instruction, social inter- 
course, and manual labor, and give to each its proper place. 

The value of the school in reformatory establishments is evident, — it 
is one of the indispensable agents in the improvement of children. The 
school is likewise a peculiar field of labor. The teacher must work him- 
self, but only in order to induce the children to work with him. He 
must awaken the interest of the pupils in the exercises which the school 
demands, and guide them on. The school tasks required of the pupils 
develop the will as much as any other labor; the aim only is a different 
one. In school the work is constantly growing, and new ground is being 
conquered. The elementary instruction only provides the wherewithal 
to do this ; but as instruction advances, new acquisitions are being con- 

* Even in those Reform Schools which receive children from the better classes, man- 
uallabor is by no means to be neglected, thoutrh it maybe limited by various circum- 
stances. Interesting facts might be given to show the willingness with which boys of 
thisclassundergogreat hardships, but this would lead too far. But this we must say, 
that the experiments made at the Rauhe Haus confirm our conviction that much good 
might be done if other institutions for tlie children of the wealthv would give their 
attention to the subject. In this way the foolish idea of the disgrace attaching to labor 
could be eradicated, and the value of work properly recognized. 

t In some institutions good educational results are obtained, becanse the House 
Father is a man of excellent character. This is another proof how much in education 
depends upon the person of the educator. Still these instances are rare, and are mostly 
of those men who without learning have had practical experience in the working of a 
Echool. 



630 THE GERMAN EEFOKM SCHOOL. 

stantly made from the treasures of nature and history. The teacher is 
among the children as the wealthy owner of all these mental riches, 
which they desire to possess. At the same time he is their friend, who 
shows his love by teaching them how to make the coveted treasure their 
own. But, in the Reform School, the teacher is at the same time the father 
of the family and the pupils are his children, whom he inspires with the 
desire of acquiring knowledge. 

If we consider the difficulties which are thrown in the way of every 
teacher in every school, and think of the struggle which he must go 
through with many of his scholars to make them understand his inten- 
tions, and reward his love by learning diligently, then we must look to 
find greater difficulties still in a Reform School. We must see this clearly, 
in order to understand thoroughly what the duties are of a House Father 
and teacher combined. For this purpose we must recall the character 
of the members of such a school. It is composed of those who, before their 
entrance into the institution, were notorious creators of disturbance, those 
who have been expelled from pchool, and those who could not be tamed 
by any discipline whatever. The classes are composed of elements which, 
taken singly, any teacher would wish to banish from his school, and which 
combined present the greatest difficulties. If there are amongst the pupils 
such as have become good scholars, through the discipline of the House 
of Refuge, they will soon leave, and their places be taken by the intractable.- 
As there is no fixed period for the admission of the pupils, there will be a 
continual change all the year round. It is one of the characteristics of the 
school that the members hate it in varying degrees. The House Father 
Las the most difficult task before him ; but to answer the end for which the 
reform school was founded, it must be fulfilled, and there only can it be 
done. But for this a House Father, in the fullest sense of the word, is re- 
quired. A parental relation must exist between him and his pupils. The 
family must form the basis of the school, and the family spirit must per- 
vade it, to enable the teacher to overcome successfully all the difficulties 
before him. If the reform school does its duty, a great benefit must ac- 
crue from this family relation. The children belong to both; the 
same influences are brought to bear on them in the one as in the other. 
The system of manual labor is also inseparably connected with and affected 
by family and school. 

The aim of the reform school is much the same as that of the well- 
organized public schools of Germany. Various grades of instruction will, 
however, be distinguished, according as the pupils are from city or country. 
As regards elementary knowledge, the aim is distinct : well-accentuated, 
reading, clear hand-writing, and a practical knowledge of arithmetic. 
The results are truly astonishing. The girls usually write better than the 
boys, for the hands of the latter have become clumsy by constant hard 
work. The selections in the Readers, afford an opportunity of gaining a 
knowledge of history, geography &c. 

The children should likewise be impressed with the importance of their 
future position as citizens, when some practical proof of their patriotism 
will be demanded. For this purpose a knowledge of the history of their 
common country is required, as well as of the country in which they were 



THE GERMAN KEFOKM SCHOOL. 031 

born. The future soldier must know for whom and for what cause he is 
to bear arms, and what his nation has already accomplished on the field 
of battle. It is the object of the school to awaken the most ardent 
patriotism, and train the young people to true liberty. 

The tendency of the age is so materialistic, and all the education given 
to the working classes is so thoroughly pervaded by this spirit, that an 
opposition to it is urgently demanded. Our education must become more 
ideal. One important element in the training of the imagination and 
feelings, is music, particularly vocal music. We do not mean to exclude 
the singing of good church tunes, but refer chiefly to the popular songs 
( Volkdiede}'.) The greatest care should be bestowed on this branch of 
instruction. There is nothing which can take its place, and through it 
the noblest emotions of heart and soul are awakened. The most tender, 
nay, religious, feeling is expressed in the national songs. The enthusiasm of 
the ancient and modern German poets is borne aloft on the wings of music. 
The love for the Fatherland, its heroes ; for summer with sunshine and 
flowers, bright mornings and balmy evenings, for the green forest and its 
dreamy loveliness, finds its echo in melody. The gently-swelling and 
powerful chorus opens a new world to the children. The singing-master, 
to be the interpreter of the new ideas, must himself be a singer, with the 
feelings of a poet and hero. He must carry the young mind with him, not 
by explanations, but by the subtle magnetism of feeling. "We know how 
far below this ideal most House Fathers come ; but we know that the 
standard has and can be reached. 

It is important that the songs taught should be pervaded by true pa- 
triotism. In some schools religious songs are sung exclusively. Accord- 
ing to the opinions of a few narrow-minded people, these are the only 
kind to be tolerated among Christians. These opinions rest on a mistaken 
view of human nature. The just demands of the human mind are left 
unsatisfied by strictly religious food. A young man is tempted, as soon as 
he leaves the discipline of the school, to throw off all restraint, and go too 
far in the Other direction. 

The greatest dltliculty is presented in the religious instruction which is 
divided into catechism and Bible history. Remarks on this subject are 
given in another place (Chapter XI.) 

In briefly reviewing the course of instruction given, we find that it 
is confined to religion, reading, writing, arithmetic, singing and free- 
hand drawing. All can be readily mastered by the application of four 
hours a day. Whatever is left undone in the summer, can be finished 
during the winter months, when there is less out-of-door work. 

As regards the instruction given to the children of the higher classes, 
who form a separate community in most Reform Schools, little need be 
said here, as it does not diff"er materially from the instruction of the 
gymnasiums and real schools. We would only say that such instruction 
13 absolutely necessary. Pupils coming from such schools and not un- 
frequently returning to them, must not have their education interrupted. 

IX. TIMES OP REST, FESTIVAL, DAYS, GAMES, ETC. 

At the close of every stated period of work or study, the influence of 
the family, as such, again presents itself. The strict adherence to rules of 



632 THE GEKMAX KEFOKM SCHOOL. 

discipline, so absolutely indispensable during the school or working 
hours, is now dropped. Now the children may indulge their own fancies, 
kept in bounds by the good old German family customs. Each day 
begins and closes with morning and evening worship, and the family, after 
every period of bodily and mental exertion, becomes a place of recreation 
and renewal of strength. 

The task of those who have the charge of the children during these 
intervals, is by no means an easy one. It consists in making the associ- 
ation of the children, at meal-times, for instance, of such a character that 
in a free and natural way both bodily and mental food are given. A 
cheerful, yet instructive, conversation becomes the best seasoning of the 
meal. At these times the hitherto hidden influence of the House Mother 
and her female assistants makes itself felt. By their care the table is 
spread with simple, yet palatable, food. There is usually a little interval 
between the labor or study after each meal, especially in the evening, 
on Saturday evening particularly. There are the general and special 
festivals. 

The regular succession of work and recreation is an essential 
condition for a healthy Christian life, for nations and families, as well as 
for individuals. Wherever these periods of rest and refreshment do not 
exist, or are granted only as nature imperatively demands, there life in 
state, church or family, goes wrong. It is one of the worst symptoms of 
our present national state, that by the rapid social and industrial develop- 
ment, the times of rest and recreation for the greater number of persons 
is reduced to the smallest possible period. On the other hand, those 
classes of society, who may have the enjoyment of sufficient intervals of 
rest, plunge into dissipation. 

The children of the Reform Schoi 1 are entirely ignorant of the rational 
way to fill the intervals between work. The way in which this is done 
characterizes every family, and the Reform School as well. The imagin- 
ative side of life may now show itself in the special festivals of the 
individual, and the geijeral family celebrations. The evening, after the 
day's work is done, should be the pleasantest time. Saturday evening 
and Sunday ought to be the festivals of each week. In the great pat- 
riotic festivals the life of a nation finds expression, and in the great 
Christian festivals the joy of Christians is poured out. The Reform School 
must as a family, and part of a nation, satisfy all proper demands in this 
direction. 

Many duties devolve on the House Father, trifling in appearance, but 
important in reality. We cannot enter into all the details, but will 
mention that among them must be classed the maintenance of a polite 
deportment among the members of the household throughout their whole 
intercourse, and personal cleanliness and propriety in dress, etc. 

We must briefly dwell on the plays and games of the children. As a 
general rule, a child shows its true nature in play. It is the expression of 
its joy expressed in perfect freedom. Here lies the magic power of play. 
A child, especially a girl, lives through a whole mother's life with her 
doll. She enters into the joys and cares with touching earnestness. 
iBvery girl in the Reform School sliould have her doll as long as she 



TUB GEKMAN KEFOKM SCHOOL. 633 

desires. There are, of course, here, as everywhere, cases of chil Jren who 
do not care for play — more among the boyS than among the girls. Great 
skill is required to create the wish to play in such a chil J ; for commands 
are of no avail here. Love and gayety, the spirit of play, are beyond a 
rule; they are born of liberty. He will be an incompetent father or 
useless assistant who cannot play himself, and enter heart and soul into it, 
becoming a child with the children. To play with the children is just as 
important as to work with them. Free as the sports must be, they must 
not degenerate into aimless romping. All the mischief and malice 
dwelling in tlie little ones breaks out during these free hours, and the 
House F.ither must check all outbreaks of passion. Certain games recur 
at regulir intervals. 

The national or provincial peculiarities expressed in various games 
liave a great charm for children. They should be encouraged as much 
as possible. It would be a sad sign if such amusements were not allowed 
in a Chri.^tian Reform School. In a penitentiary, games, of course, cannot 
be tolerated ; but in the school, where the past is forgiven, the cheerful 
influence of g imes must fiud a place. 

There ought, also, to be bodily exercises of a stricter kind, such as 
gymnastic exercises and military drill. The latter t-houM be accompanied 
by the drum, or by the singing of a martial air. Swimming ought to be 
practised wheaever an opportunity offers. 

Another important source of amusement is the little garden, which 
every child ought to own. These gardens may either encircle the 
plij-ground or form a pi ice by themselves, but must not be too far from 
the dwelling-house. Some Reform Schooh have made a great mistake in 
banishing these gardens to ol I shady places, or to a soil where nothing 
would grow. He Avho knows to what great results little things often 
Lad, will not consider this subject unworthy of consideration. IIow does 
the child stand like a little prince before his flower-bed, watching day by 
day the development of the plant ; its growth from tender shoot to bright 
green leaves, and at last the opening of the long-expected flower ! All 
the hopes of a child often center in the thought how it will gladden the 
heart of a parent, on the next visit, with the flower now sleeping in the 
bud. 

Other occupations fill the long winter evenings, and the treasure of 
song gathered in school-hours is now voluntarily drawn upon to while 
away the time. Many of the evenings preceding Christmas are occupied 
in preparing gifts for that happy time. These pleasant employments are 
varied by reading. Every reform school, therefore, should possess a good 
library for general use, containing instructive and entertaining works in 
historj', biography and travi. 1. 

No opportunity should be allowed to pass of combining instruction 
with amusement. We know from experience what a source of enjoyment 
the annual visit to the Zoological Garden of Hamburg is to the children 
of the Rauhe Haus. Occasional lectures on physics, chemistry, and the 
wonders of the microscope, accompanied by experiments, will also prove 
useful and amusing. Besides, there is Sunday, supremely a day of rest, 
rich in spiritual blessings. 



gg4 THE GERMAN EEFOEM SCHOOL. 

X. — PUNISHMENT AND DISCIPLINE. 

No one will form the opinion from wbat has been said that there is 
never any disturbance in the family life, in the hours of labor or in the 
school. It is, of course, the first duty of the teachers to prevent such 
disturbances. But when the vicious tendencies that have been sleeping 
for a time break out anew, assuredly the delinquent must be made to feel 
that if his former transgressions are forgiven, these new sins must be 
punished. Whose duty is it to inflict chastisement in such cases ? There 
are schools where the discipline of the school is managed by a committee, 
la some instances, quarrels between the adult members of the institution 
have been brought before this committee ; and we know of cases where 
the House Father has actually been reprimanded in the presence of his 
assistants. In other establishments the corporal punishments have been 
entrusted to the principal of the institution, who has to hand in a report 
as to his manner of dealing with the pupils. It is carrying power too far 
to expose a House Father before his inferiors, and the very foundations of 
his authority are shaken. 

The power of punishing ought to be in the hands of the House 
Father. It is the inalienable right of the father of the family, and it 
ought to remain exclusively with the head, and not be given to the 
assistants, except in special cases. The infliction of corporal punishment 
should be allowed to the assistants in a very limited degree. Their duty 
is to report all flagrant cases of insubordination to the House Father. 
The children ought, on the other hand, to feel that they may always 
appeal to the House Father, in whom they place the fullest confidence. 

No punishments should be inflicted but such as a father would give his 
own children, and chains aud handcuffs must never be employed ; for the 
school would at once lose its character, and become a mere House of 
Correction. Consequently, there can be no code of punishment laws, but 
only the general rules existing in every family. Of course there must be 
corporal punishment in the school; no torturing, but the good, old- 
fashioned caning, always inflicted by the House Father himself Used in 
moderation, and only in extreme cases, it is indispensable in the Reform 
School. 

Another efficient punishment, which must be employed still more 
rarely, is solitary confinement — an actual incarceration. This mode of 
correction has often been the only one found capable of bringing some 
obstinate offender to his senses. 

There are some cases in which all discipline is in vain. We do not 
mean the once running away of the pupils. In all cases they must be 
sought for and brought back ; and the conduct of those committees was 
unjustifiable, who not only did not look for the truants, but refused to 
admit them when they were brought back. But what is to be done with 
a child who escapes not once, but twenty times, and without any apparent 
cause? Repeatedly rescued from want and misery, he again and agam 
returns to it, and willingly exposes himself to cold and hunger. No rules 
can be given ; but the Reform School must always receive the child when 
he is brought back. His conduct shows how much he needs the help of 



THE GEKMAN liEFOKM SCHOOL. (335 

the Bchool. There is nothing to do but to rejoice at his return. Ills com- 
rades will, iu most cases, form a living wall around him, receive him 
aflFectionately, and show more tenderness than grown up persons would 
be able to do. 

What is to be done when the children conspire together and form 
some secret organization, where vices of every kind are practised ? These 
are difficulties of a serious nature, which must nevertheless be solved in 
some way. It is easy to say that the offenders should be given up to the 
police ; but it is not the intention of the Reform School to dismiss such 
children, but to remove the causes of their wickedness. Great earnestness 
and courage are required for such emergencies. The guilty children must 
be deeply impressed with the truth that, though they deserve the Divine 
wrath, they yet, by the love of Christ, may be pardoned. This very love 
empowers the House Father to receive them repeatedly, in spite of all 
their sins. It may sometimes happen that the whole family are asked to 
co-operate in the restoration of the lost ones, and that such an event 
ultimately proves a great and lasting blessing to the whole school. 

There remain two disciplinary measures for very extreme cases. In- 
stances when public crimes are committed have happened, and may 
happen again. We know of several cases of attempted arson and murder. 
The House Father, as head of the family, is not obliged by law to inform 
the authorities of such crimes. Although he may keep the knowledge to 
himself, he will owe it to the criminal, in most cases, to give him up to the 
punishment by the government. Regard for the other pupils imperatively 
demands this course, and it will be for the ultimate benefit of the criminal. 
Again, when all attempts to reform a child have proved failures, and the 
well-being of the other children is endangered, he sliould be dismissed. 
In the Rauhe Haus there have been ten such cases during a period of 
thirty-four years. 

XL RELIGIOUS EDUCATION OF THE PUPILS. 

The importance of religious instruction in the Reform School has 
already become evident. The Gospel — God's pardoning grace through 
the blood of His divine Son, Jesus Christ, and the grateful love that binds 
the ransomed soul to the Redeemer — is the foundation of all such institu- 
tions. They aim to create a new life in the hearts of the pupils by the 
power of the Gospel. Mere human effort cannot do this ; but it can do 
something towards it. We will divide this chapter, and describe — A. 
Instructions intended to embrace the whole establishment ; B. Instructions 
intended to develop the religious life of the individual. 

A. According to the general rules of Christian life, each day must be 
begun and closed by the reading of the Bible and prayer. At such times 
the fixmily becomes a congregation, gathered before their Heavenly Father. 
The House Father is the priest and servant of God, through whom He 
speaks to each, and offers His gracious invitation to become one of the 
family of God. These exercises should be short, so as not to weary the 
youthful mind. In the morning they should consist in reading and expla- 
nation of short passages of Scripture. Some of the younger members may 



636 THE CEKilAN EEFOKJVI SCHOOL. 

not understand all that is said ; it is not to be expected. God Himself 
often said more than Ills disciples understood at the time. It is the nature 
of the Word that it falls into the heart like seed in the ground, to lie 
hidden for a time, and then bring forth the blossom. 

A judicious and intelligent House Father has an excellent opportunity 
to refer to occurrences in the family life, — to build up what others have 
torn down. At this time, also, new members of the household are intro- 
duced, the birlhdays are spoken of, and a word of caution or encourage- 
ment given. The birthdays of those who have left the school may be 
mentioned. The memory of the old companion is revived, and words of 
joy or sorrow spoken, according as he has fulfilled or disappointed the 
hopes entertained for hhn. The memory of the friends and benefactors 
of the institution should be renewed on their birthdays. In a simple and 
natural way, the life of the household is led back to the source of all life. 
All this combined forms a spiritual power. Every child knows he will 
never be forgotten by the school. Many a pupil has written how, on his 
birthday morning, he knew they would be praying for him at the Reform 
School, and the thought has a power for good. 

The evening hour is to be occupied by reading, a prayer and a hymn. 
These times of worship should be kept entirely distinct in their character 
from the school and working hours. No school discipline should be 
exercised. The children must learn that, when assembled as a worship- 
ing congregation, they must maintain order amongst themselves. If 
reprimands become necessary, they should be given privately, after the 
close of the service. The children will in this manner learn to distinguish 
prayer from working time. These hours sanctify the whole, and give 
glimpses of the coming Sabbath. 

Besides the daily prayers, must be mentioned the blessing at meals. 
The middle of the day is the time for the chief meal, and is the symbol of 
" the daily bread." The other meals are but preliminary, either preparing 
for it or supplementary. So dinner is the time for the blessing. The Lord 
Himself invoked a blessing at the beginning of the meal only, and those 
who do this follow His example. The custom of the Reform School must 
in this particular conform itself to the custom of the country. 

The most important day, as regards the religious education of the 
pupils, is, of course, Sun4ay. When a nation has become estranged from 
the true way of keeping Sunday, and the pupils on their entrance only 
know Sunday as a mere day of amusement, all the more is it the duty of 
the Reform School to accustom them again to its proper observance. Sun- 
day is tne day of the Resurrection ; its celebration testifies of the victory 
of life over death. From the time that spring sets in, and all the summer 
through, the families take turns in going, early in the morning, " when 
the sun rises," to the beautiful " God's Acre," the last resting-place of 
many a former pupil of the Reform School, where each grave is only 
adorned with a simple stone cross and the heavenly words of comfort, 
Christ is my life. They clear and adorn, during the early Sabbath hours, 
the graves of the departed ones in silence, as the sacred ground demands, 
and with that love in their hearts which, at such a place and during such 
an occupation, is but natural. When, later in the day, the other families 



THE GEKMAN REFORM SCHOOL. QQfj 

go to church, their way lead3 them past these decorated graves, and the 
risen Saviour is preached to them each witliout words. 

On Sundays, everyday labor is to cease entirely. The whole house 
has alread}^ during Saturday, undergone a thorough cleansing ; the chil- 
dren likewise, who are dressed in their Sunday's best. Everything in 
house and garden looks fresh and shining, and every one feels that it is 
Sunday. Then comes the public worship. In long and orderly procession 
all the inhabitants of the Reform School go to church. "What the pupils 
have heard already at the family worship they now hear again, in common 
with God's congregation, as a testimony to them that church and family 
rest on the same foundation, and should always be inseparably connected. 
The Gospel of the forgiveness of sins, and the privilege of being called 
children of God, is not preached to them alone ; all are sinners, and all 
live by the same grace. 

From church, the children go directly to dinner, which is always 
better on Sunday. Then comes Sunday afternoon, the time to which the 
children have been looking forward all the week through. In many 
places, one Sunday afternoon during the month is Set apart for the visits 
of parents and friends, and one may then often see parents, arm in arm 
and in familiar conversation with their children, walk through the shady 
avenues and between the flower beds of the garden. 

But how are the many other Sunday afternoons to be spent ? This ia 
a much-vexed question, and there is in this respect a vast difference be- 
tween Germany on the one side and England and America on the other. 
For our part, we do not doubt for a moment that the manner in which the 
Sunday afternoon is spent at the German Reform Schools is more in 
accordance with the spirit of Christ's Gospel than the Anglo-American 
one. First among the Sunday recreations ranks the walk into God's free 
Nature. On Sunday He allows His sun to shine. His flowers to bloom, 
the brooks to ripple through the forest's shade, and the birds to warble 
their joyful songs ; and should man not enjoy all this on that day ? For 
the rest, the children may in most cases safely be left to follow the bent of 
their own inclination, and they will find the right way; they will, without 
being told to do so, quietly read or draw, or do some carving, or something 
of the kind. Sometimes they will play a quiet game, or some good book 
is read to them, or they engage in conversation. 

Numbers of anonymous letters have been received at the Rauhe Haus 
from England, in which all this was severely censured. As a special sin, 
it was mentioned that some of the children had, on Sunday, woiked in 
their little gardens ; and why, we ask, should the innocent pleasure be 
denied them of tending their few flowers on Sundays? We likewise 
strongly recommend for the girls sewing or mending ; they herewith fol- 
low a custom which in most parts of Germany distinguishes the good and 
diligent servants from the idle ones. Especially in winter, the necessity 
for some such occupation becomes quite urgent. During the weeks pre- 
ceding Christmas, the children are busily occupied with getting ready 
presents, by which they intend to gladden the heart of some fiiend or 
relative ; frequently, also, for poor and sick children. And, truly, what 
more worthy occupation could be fovmd for Simday ? 



638 THE GERMAN EEFORM SCHOOL. 

The great church festivals, — Christmas, Easter and Whitsuntide, — 
and their celebration, are merely a further development of Sunday. In 
connection with these festivals is the preparation for each of them. The 
time of Advent, before Christmas, the season of Lent, before Easter, and 
the time from Ascension-day till Pentecost, form the great Sabbath times 
of the new covenant. In this light the churcli and the family are to look 
at these seasons. No child, we venture to say, who has once celebrated 
Christmas at the Rauhe Haus will ever forget it again. We know of 
several who have celebrated Christmas again in this manner on the prairies 
of the far West and on the stormy ocean, and as long as they live will the 
simple songs sung on these occasions resound in their hearts. The season 
of Lent is the time of preparation for the confirmation ; then comes the 
confirmation itself, and the grand celebration of the Lord's Supper before 
Good Friday, and the solemn Easter morning service at the graveyard. 

There cannot be too much care bestowed on the instruction in biblical 
history and the catechism, for one is as important as the other. The aim 
of instruction in biblical history must be to make the pupils as much as 
possible acquainted with the various periods of this history, and to repre- 
sent before the youthful mind, in their true dimensions, the grand person- 
ages of the Old and New Testament, — above everything else, the unique 
person of the Redeemer, as the Alpha and Omega of all that has happened, 
— the further development of God's kingdom, and the fact that, both here 
and in history, it is the same almighty will that rules the destmies of 
nations and those of each single individual. Many a one can date the 
turnicg-point in his life from this religious instruction received at the 
Reform School. "That's me!" said, once, a lively little boy, when a 
person from sacred history was depicted to him by his teaclier. This 
" that's me ! " may often be the beginning of a new period in the history 
of a child's life. In the catechism instruction, an opportunity is afforded 
to give the children a deeper insight into the divine truths, and to build 
their faith on firmer foundations, so that all the vicissitudes of life may 
not be able to shake it. 

If we start from the principle that the most essential point in the 
family of the Reform School consists in that love which springs from 
Christ and leads to Christ, each child must as much as possible be made 
to feel of what great importance it is to the leaders of an institution, 
which is pervaded by the spirit of Christ's love, to save his individual soul 
for life eternal. The fii"st and chief question is, who is to exercise this 
pastoral care. As in every truly Christian family this care will devolve on 
the father of the family, so in the family of the Reform School it will be 
the province of the House Father to attend to this. He is to be the 
spiritual adviser, exhorter and comforter of every child belonging to his 
family. 

The starting-point for this relation between the child and the House 
Father, is the hour when the former is received into the institution. At 
that time the child is told, with the first welcome, that all his former sins 
shall be forgotten, and never again be mentioned ; but, at the same time, 
with this significant beginning, the House Father speaks to the child of 
the only Saviour of men as He who has come to seek and save the lost 



THE GERMAN REFORM SCHOOL. 639 

ones. The work begun in that hour is to be continued by tlie House 
Father, and the whole life of the child at the Reform School is to be a 
further interpretation of those first words. If the House Father under- 
stands how to explain the word of God to the child ; if he knows how to 
make use of the birthday celebrations, and other joyful and sad events in 
a child's life, — to introduce some word of exhortation and comfort, — the 
relation between the child and the House Father will naturally become a 
more tender and intimate one. The conversation need by no means 
always be of a religious nature ; but the child must be able to feel at every 
word which is said the fatherly love which the House Father cherishes 
for his children. 

Often it may become necessary to take a child apart and engage in 
prayer witli him. Many a one has, just through such a short and heart- 
felt prayer, by the blessing of God, been saved for life. Never should 
children, however, be forced to pray. As there is no prescribed method 
of instruction at the Reform Schoul, there is not to be any prescribed 
method for the religious education of the pupils. Love which is not 
voluntary, but forced, carries the germ of* death within it. Many people 
demand such a religious pressure as a sign of true Christianity. All such 
methodical Christianity is untrue, and should not be tolerated. It is 
especially wrong to try to bring about conversion by these forced means. 
Conversion is a thorough change of the innermost tendencies of the 
human heart, a change of all the thoughts, words and actions, and is 
brought about not by force, but by the silent working of God's holy spirit. 
To assist, so fir as human power reaches, this labor of God's spirit, is the 
duty of the conscientious Christian House Father. It is an art of love and 
prayer, which only prospers by God's own blessing, but which is product- 
ive of a divine life, from which, as from a hidden root, those fruits of the 
spirit spring forth in rich abundance — which Paul describes in the fourth 
chapter of his Epistle to the Galatians ; and these spiritual riches may 
become the greatest crown and ornament of every Reform School. 

XII. — DISCHARGE AND AFTER-CARE OF PUPILS.* 

Pupils can be dismissed only when their education has been brought 
to a satisfactory close. As a general rule, a three-years' sojourn is 
required to obtain this result, and no child should leave before confirma- 
tion. Pupils that wish to stay only a year or two, should not be admitted. 
Difficulties may frequently arise, occasioned by the foolishness of parents, 
who, because their children have, perhaps, been punished, as they think, 
too severely, wish to remove them from the Reform School, or threaten, 
as has, indeed, already been done, to invoke the law. 

Ill order to meet such difiiculties, the Rauhe Haus has adopted the 
following course. In the contract of admission a passage is inserted in 
which the parents solemnly doclare that they have voluntarily committed 
their child to the care of the Reform School, and that if they remove their 
child from the school before the stipulated time, they engage to pay all 

* This chapter includes the following subjects : Time and conditions of leaving the 
institution ; further care bcstowc-d on pupils that have left and tlie ditliculty and partial 
impossibility of doing this ; results of the Reform School education. 



640 



THE GERMAN EEFOEM SCHOOL. 



the expenses incurred during the child's stay. Of course, if the parent* 
are utterly unable to pay, nothing remains but to dismiss the children 
■without insisting on the payment of the expenses. The departure ot 
pupils who have gone through the regular course, that is to say, have 
stayed till after their confirmation, ought to take place in a solemn and 
impressive manner ; the best time will be the hour of daily worship. The 
House Father will then hand to those that are about to leave, a Bible, 
with some suitable words of scripture written on the fly-leaf. At the end 
of the service, a few words of love and exhortation ought to be ad- 
dressed to them in public. 

As regards the finding of places for pupils that have left, those who 
have paid for their full board and instruction will have to find places 
themselves ; but the institution will gladly give advice and useful hints. 
For the pupils of the poorer classes, however, places will have to be found 
by the institution, as a completion of the education which they have 
received. The choice of a trade is always to be left to the child, and 
should have the sanction of the parents. The House Father should, long 
before the time of leaving, in confidential conversation, ascertain the 
wishes and ideas of the child on this subject, and, if possible, try to check 
foolish desires and aspirations. 

A difiicult problem is the superintendence of pupils after they have left, 
which should be continued up to a certain stipulated period. After 
leaving the Reform School, the pupils will in most cases see and hear just 
the contrary of what they have been wont to at the school ; they will be 
surrounded by immorality and infidelity, which will do their best to draw 
them into the whirlpool of sin ; the public press, with its but too frequent 
mocking of God and heavenly things, will exercise its baneful influence. 
On the other hand, there is the excessive demands which in some 
Christian houses will be made on children that have come from a Reform 
School, which, according to the ideas of some people, should only turn 
out perfect angels. It even happens, not unfrequently, that the parents 
themselves destroy the tender plants of morality and religion which with 
so much care have been raised at the Reform School, by entreating and 
encouraging their children to forget all that gloomy religion which they 
have learned there, and again to place themselves on a level with the 
cheerful world. 

All these circumstances combine to make the continued superintend- 
ence a very difiicult and delicate task. At any rate a regular contract 
ought to be signed by the principal of the Reform School and the trades- 
master with whom the pupil is to be placed. Among the conditions there 
ought to be : permission for the pupil to pay a visit to the Reform School 
on certain Sundays in the year; a regular weekly visit of one of the 
assistants from the Reform School to the house where the pupil lives, etc. 
If possible, the Reform School should, during the time the contract lasts, 
supply the pupil with clothes, in order to hold out some inducement to 
his master. 

Very difficult, in fact almost impossible, will this superintendence 
become when the pupils are placed far away from the Reform School, or 
go to sea, or emigrate to foreign countries. In some such cases the pastor 



THE GERMAN EEFOKM SCHOOL. 041 

of the village or town where they were placed has been asked to have an 
eye to such, and if they should go astray to try and lead thcra to the right 
path again. Often, however, this will be entirely impracticable, and all 
that can be done is to exercise the greatest care in the selection of the 
persons with whom such pupils are placed. 

As regards the results of the Reform School education, mere numbers 
will never convey an adequate idea of the good that has been done by 
them ; their silent influence will, nevertheless, make itself felt far and near. 
As there were no statistics extant concerning these Reform Schools, com- 
munications had to be opened with every one of them, and the result has 
been the following : 

There are at present in Germany and the six German-speaking 
provinces of other countries, 80 Roman Catholic and 330 Protestant Re- 
form Schools. Concerning the former, no information could be obtained, 
and of the latter, information was received from 79. Many of the other 
Reform Schools have either not responded at all to our inquiries, or 
have done so in an entirely unsatisfactory manner, or declared themselves 
unable to give any information. 

Of the 79 institutions mentioned below, 28 are for boys and girls, 44 
only for boys, and 7 only for girls. 

Grand Duchy of Baden. — Hardt, near Carlsruhe (16 years).* 

Kingdom op Bavauia. — Marienthal, near Bchweinfurt (15A); Inken- 
thalerhof, near Rockenhausen (13); Hassloch (17); Trauthergerhaus, near 
Castel(17); Puckenhof, near Erkngen (17) ; Jean Paul Reform School, 
at Baireuth (26). 

Duchy of Brunswick.— St. Leonhard, near Brunswick (15). 

Free Cities. —Rauhes Haus, at Horn, near Hamburg (34) ; Ellener- 
hof, near Bremen (20J); Fischer-buden, near Lubeck (22^). 

Mecklenburg.— Bethauien, near Rattey (16). 

Prussia — 1. Province of Brandenburg. — Neander Haus, at Gross-Cam- 
min(16); Marwitz, near Henmngsdorf (10); Heilbrunn, near Wusterbau- 
sen(1.5); Gossner House, in Berlin {<ol)\ Pfingsthaus, in Potsdam (16); 
Wilmersdorf (ll|); Cothen, near Falkenberg (11); Angermiinde, (15^); 
Reitwein, near Podelzig (18); Rothes House, in Brassow (20); Linde 
(14); Hermsdorf(15); Reppcn (15^) ; Wulkow, near Alt-Rappin(15). 

2. Province of JbmcmHm.— Stralsund (20); Stolp (lOf); Garz(23); 
Triebsees (14); Elisabeth Stift, at Kieckow (17); Elisabeth Stift, at Gorcke 
(17) ; ZUllchow, near Stettin (36). 

3. Province of Prussia.— ^chonhTMch l^b); Tilsit (20). 

4. Province of Saxony. — Lindenhof, near Neinstedt (17); Eckartsbaus, 
near Eckartsberge (19); Genthiu (12). 

5. Province of Silesia. — Steinkunzendorf, near Peterswaldau (14); 
Ereitenhain, near Schvveidnitz(13i); Neisky (7f); Gorlitz (174^) ; Rmkau, 
near Morschelwitz (10) ; Wiltschau, near KoUerwifz (16); Schreiberhau 
(34); Morija, near Guadeufrei (10*); Neusalz (17); Michelsdorf, near 
Landshut (11); Bethesda, in Friedland (11). 

6. Province of Westphalia. — Hellweg Institute, at Holzwickede (4i) ; 
Gotteshutte, at Klein Bremen (8A) ; PoUertshof, near Pr. Oldendorf (16)' ; 
Vorde, near Hagen (6^) ; Scbildesche, near Bielefeld (15). 

7. Province of (he'Ehine. — Duisburg (23) ; Schmiedel (17). 

•The figures in parentheses denote the number of years the institutioa had bfi«a 
in operation in 18ti8. 

41 



g42 THE GEKMAN KEFOKM SCHOOL. 

8. Province of Hanover. — Hameln (14) ; Linerhaus, near Altenzelle 
(22); Sclihideu (lOi) ; Rickliagen, near Ilanuover (17) ; Grussefehn (2^) ; 
Huiienbcrg, near Melle (14). 

9. Province of IlexKe and Franconia. — Beiserhaus, at Rengshausen 
(23); Scheuern(l(3); Wiesbaden (10). 

10. Province of Schleswig-IIohtein. — Martin-stift, near Flensburg. 
Russia.— Narwa (29^) ; Reval (24) ; Altona, near Mitau (8^). 
Saxony {Kingdom.)— W QinhGvg, near Riesa (15f) ; Prince Albert-stift, 

in Scliwai zenberg (15). 

Saxon Duchies. — Heinrich-stift, in Great Paschleben, near Cothen 
(14i) ; Friedericken-slitt, in Ballenstedt (10) ; Georg and Marion Haus, at 
Meusehvitz, near Altenburg (13^) ; Fischhaus, near Meiningen (7^). 

Switzerland. — Bachtelen, near Berne (28) ; Friedheim, near Bubi- 
kon (20i). 

WuRTEMBEiJG. — Herbreclitergon (26) ; Tuttlingen (42). 

In these 79 institutions there have, up to November 18G7, been received 
10,527 pui)ils. 

Of this number — 

1. Tliere died at the Reform School, . . . 247, or 3 per cent. 

2. Returned to the parents from various reasons, or 

runaway, 630, " 7.7 " 

3. Left the institution in the regular course, after 

having been confirmed, ..... 7,223, " 89.3 " 

8,100 

Those who have turned out badly, 6i4 

Of these, punished by law, 339 

Unpunished, 305 

644 644 

Those of whom indifferent accounts are given, .... 1.251 
Those of whom perfectly satisfactory accounts are given, . . 4,529 
Those never heard from, . 799 

Therefore, left in the regular course, 7,223 

Counting all that have left 8,100 pupils. 

Present in the seventy-nine institutions in 1868, . 2,427 pupils. 

Of these seventy-nine institutions, there rise above the percentage — 

With good (62.6 per cent ), 36 institutions. 

With indifferent (17.3 per cent.) 37 institutions. 

And there are below the percentage — 
With bad, nt)t punished (4.2 per cent.), . . 48 institutions. 

With bad, punished (4.7 per cent.), . . .46 institutions. 

With bad generally (8.9 per cent.), .... 40 institutions. 

Fuller details can, of course, be given only when returns shall have 
been received from all the Reform Schools of Germany. 

XIII. — relation op the reform schools to the STATE. 

It is self-evident that the state and communal authorities will take a 
lively interest in the Reform Schools, because the number of vagrants and 
candidates for the houses of correction is thereby greitly diminished. 
That this is really done, is conclusively shown by the numbers given in 
the ipreceding chapters. The governments of most Christian countries 
Jaave, therefore, shown a desire to assist the Reform Schools. The 
greatest possible caution should, however, be exercised, and the timeo 
J)anac>5 alwajs be remembered, because not unfrequently the union of the 



THE GERMAN KEFORM SCHOOL. g43 

State authorities and those of the Reform School endangers the character 
of the latter and tends to make them mere houses of correction. This 
induces the parents, either by stratagem or by force, to entice their 
children away from the Reform School, and encourages the children to 
run away from the so-called prison. The spirit of Christian charity 
•which should always pervade the Reform School is thereby greatly 
diminished, and the confidence of the better class of parents entirely 
shaken. It is, therefore, necessary to keep the two carefully separated, 
not as if they were enemies, but because it will be to their mutual 
advantage. The question is chiefly whether pupils are to be received, 
who, from some reason, have been placed in the Reform School by the 
communal or state authorities. The temptation lies in the fact that by 
receiving such pupils the Reform School gets a certain fixed subsidy, 
which is paid regularly by the authorities. Agreements of this kind exist 
in several countries. Thus the Prussian penal law code (^ 42) of 1851 
decrees, " that criminals who have not yet completed their 1 6th year are 
to be set free, if it has been ascertained that they do not yet possess the 
faculty of discriminating, and that the court has to decide whether they 
are to be sent back to their family or placed in a House of Correction." 

As there were then only very few such institutions, some substitute 
for them had to be found, and the Reform Schools were at once thought 
of. Many people highly lauded the new movement, extolling the " Chris- 
tian spirit" of the State ; while, in reality, the State only wished to get 
rid of these young criminals. Thus we find, in 1857, 313, and, in 1859, 276 
children, who properly ought to be in a House of Correction, distributed 
over sixty-nine Protestant and seven Catholic Reform Schools. Similar 
agreements between the State and the Reform Schools exist, to some 
extent, in Wurtemberg and in Bavaria. In the last-mentioned country it 
has gone so far that some of the Reform Schools have entirely lost their 
original character, and are at present nothing but Houses of Correction, 
maintained by government subsidies, but originally founded by private 
individuals, legacies, etc. 

XIV. RELATION OF THB REFORM SCHOOLS TO THE CHURCH. 

During the first three decades of the Reform School's existence in 
Germany, this relation never gave rise to any difficulties. There was a 
change, however, after the year 1848-49. The question is only interesting 
in so far as there are not a few ministers who ignore, and even despise, 
Reform Schools, because they are not " church institutions." We cannot 
but deplore their taking this view of the matter, because the Protestant 
Reform Schools in Germany, whoever may have founded them, are, in 
fact, religious institutions, though not founded, ruled and maintained by 
the church. The Reform Schools are religious institutions, because, rest- 
ing on the same foundation as the church, they build up the kingdom of 
God here on earth, — His invisible church, — by seeking the lost ones, and 
by leading them again to the right path. They are also religious institu- 
tions, inasmuch as members of the church, in voluntary love, have founded 
and maintained them by their contributions and prayers; they are a com- 



C44 THE GERMAK KEFOEM SCHOOL. 

fort for those Tvbo seek in the church a saving hand for their children ; 
they are a living testimony that faith is not yet dead. So they are entirely 
different from merely philanthropic and humanistic institutions, which, -with- 
out leading to Christ, attempt to reform the youth entrusted to their care. 
The religious character of the Reform iSchool demands that children o f 
churches -which, in principle, are opposed to each other, such as Catholics 
and Protestants, should not be received in one and the same institution. 
That the Protestant Reform School, -with its inmates, takes part in the 
public services is understood, because it forms one of the families of the 
Christian congregation. 

XV. ADMINISTRATION, FINANCIAL AFFAIRS AND PUBIilCITT. 

Great or small as the Reform Schools may be, they are nowhere 
merely private institutions, but aim at obtaining the privileges of corpora- 
tions, that they may acquire real estate and legacies. The difficulties 
■which are to be overcome in this respect are very great, especially when 
it is to be proven that the institution is in possession of a definite amount 
of property. The possession of real estate is, generally speaking, a vital 
condition for the continuation of a Reform School after the death of its 
founder. This property belonging to the Reform School, the regulation 
of other external affairs, the raising of the required funds, and the -way in 
which they are to be employed, the installation or dismissal of a House 
Father, — all this, and man3' other things, demand an administrative body 
{verwaltungskdrper.) 

We will not in this place criticise the way in which things have been 
managed hitherto, but much remains to be desired in this respect. Thus 
it has happened that well-meaning persons, — noblemen or owners of large 
real estates, — have founded a Reform School on their property, but did 
not regulate its ownership, and, after the death of the founders, the exist- 
ence of such a Reform School has been seriously threatened by the heirs. 
The position of such an institution is very awkward, especially if no one 
has the will or courage to investigate the matter thoroughly. The House 
Father will find himself in the worst predicament, particularly if he have 
a large family of his own, as he is exposed to the entirely arbitrary treat- 
ment of persons who either take no interest in his school or hate it. 

Next to the real estate, the finances are a fruitful source of cares and 
difficulties. This certainly ought not to be one of the duties of the House 
Father, as it has been in some places, where he has actually been forced 
to wander round from house to house, and collect contributions. As 
regards the raising of the necessary funds, the most natural way is to have 
the Reform Sch(X)l chiefly maintained by a number of wealthy benefactors. 
These generally agree to do this before the undertaking is commenced ; 
but their number is gradually diminished by death, removal and other 
circumstances, and ought, therefore, to be continually recruited. 

Another important source of income is the money paid for board. 
However, there should never be a certain fixed sum which is made the 
conditio sine qua non of a pupil's being admitted to the Reform School, aa 
has been in some places. Where this sum is very high, as a natural con- 



THE GERMAN REFORM SCHOOL. 645 

sequence, the number of pupils has been small, and, because the institution 
did not llouiish, the contributions have gradually ceased to flow in. Then, 
suddenly, the very opposite course was pursued, by receiving pupils alto- 
gether gratuitously. This was not the ri^ht way either, and had not the 
desired success. Every Reform School should fix the number of children 
to be received at twelve, twenty, or twenty-four, etc., and make the rule, 
that children who are absolutely unable to pay anything should be received 
gratuitously, but that, on the other hand, parents should be reminded that 
their duty and honor as parents demands that they should not receive 
anything gratuitously for which they are able to pay. Then it must be 
ascertained what parents really can pay, be it ten, twenty, thirty, fifty, or 
eighty (Prussian) dollars per annum. In case the parents cannot pay, it 
will be well to gather a circle of friends who will undertake to make up 
an annual sum ; and what is then still wanting must be paid by the volun- 
tary donations, which will never fail if the institution is conducted in the 
right manner. If the Reform School has friends, it should always endeavor 
to increase their number, because love is inventive and rich in little helps, 
which, together, are an important aid. Such assistance by no means ought 
to be despised, as contributions in kind and gifts of clothes. 

In addition to all this, there ought to be the produce of the garden and 
fields belonging to the institution. When new buildings are to be erected, 
love gladly lends a helping hand. On such occasions, an appeal in one of 
the papers will not be out of place. The longer a Reform School exists, 
the more it gains the confidence of the public, and the richer will be the 
contributions. Thus the more than 400 Reform Schools of Germany and 
Switzerland would, if built together, make quite a town, with a large 
amount of real estate. But, although scattered all over the German land, 
they form a grand monument of love and faith, raised under the blessing 
of God. Some of the stones of this building may crumble to dust, but the 
foundation of the whole will not be shaken, and newer and better ones will 
take their places. 

la most Reform Schools an annual report of the financial status has 
been handed to the benefactors, and has also been published. If these 
reports were made out upon some uniform plan, it would be possible to 
show what the expenses are for one child in the various institutions ; but 
the material for making such a computation is so imperfect, that no satis- 
factory conclusion can be drawn. To give an idea of the expenses of the 
Reform Schools in Wurtemberg alone, we will mention that the nineteen 
Reform Schools existing in 1844 expended the following sums : 

For the first foundation of these nineteen institutions, 210,569 florins. 

For maintaining them up to the year 1844, . . 724,680 florins. 

Total, 935,249 florins. 

The annual expenses for one child seem to be eighty to ninety florins in 
the South of Germany, and from seventy to one hundred and twenty 
(Prussian) dollars in the North. 

It will be evident, from what has been said hitherto, that the Reform 
School cannot have the character of a family living in seclusion. It is like 
a house with windows on every side, inviting all passers-by to look in. 



646 THE GERMAN KEFOEM SCHOOL. 

From this circumstance springs the new, and by no means easy, task of 
guarding the children from all dangers which may result from this pub- 
licity. Especially if the Reform School be located in the neighborhood of 
some large city, there will scarcely be a day on which there are no visitors, 
Irequently from all parts of the world. Visits of this kind cannot be in any 
way regulated ; on the contrary, nothing that might interest strangers 
should be kept from their observation, — only, the proper regard must be 
had for the welfare of the pupils, which may easily be endangered if, for 
example, every casual visitor is allowed to engage in conversation with 
any one of the pupils on his past life, or if strangers wished to attend all 
the recitation hours. 

To this must be added the monthly visits of parents and friends, which 
should always be kept up, but be under strict supervision. Nevertheless, 
it will be impossible to prevent the parents or friends from communicating 
to the pupils items of news and gossip, which the latter had better not 
know, particularly with regard to the Reform School, which is the fre- 
quent object of bitter attacks and misrepresentations in the local press. 
The children then become conscious of the fact that their persons attract 
the public attention. All this imposes upon the authorities of the Reform 
School a new moral and educational task, to accomplish which will be the 
duty of the House Father, and it will require a great deal of tact and 
knowledge of human nature to do this in a satisfactory manner, as, on ac- 
count of the innumerable individual cases, no general rules can be laid down. 

On the other hand, the authorities of the Reform School should encour- 
age publicity on certain occasions, such as the annual festivals, M'hen all 
benefactors and friends should be invited to take a share in the festive joys. 
On such a day the children should not be annoyed by examinations and 
catechising, but enjoy themselves in the full sense of the term, by sing- 
ing and playing to their hearts' content. 

In connection with the anniversary of the founding of the Reform 
School, a report on the past year should be publicly read. The tenor of it 
should be such as may be read before the children without giving ofience ; 
portions which touch on delicate subjects, but which, nevertheless, cannot 
be omitted in the report, may be left out in reading, but should certainly 
appear in print. Such a report ought to contain a full statement of income 
and expenditure, the names of the members of the administrative board, 
full statistics of the past year, and all occurrences, both sad and joyful, 
which may be of public interest. Sermons delivered on such festal occa- 
sions ought not to be inserted in it. The principal of the school should 
draw up the report, from material collected by the House Father, in the 
shape of a diary. If all the reports were made out on this principle, they 
would form quite a treasure of pedagogical experience. Amongst the best 
and most interesting reports, we mention those of the Reform School at 
Stammheim, near Calw (Wurtemberg), formerly edited by the late Dr. 
Barth ; as, also, those published by the Swiss Society in Zurich. 

XVI. THE FUTURE OF THE PROTESTANT REFORM SCHOOLS. 

On the supposition that the Reform Schools will remain essentially 
Christian institutions, we would, in conclusion, mention a few pia desideria^ 



TUE GERMAN KEFOKM SCnOOL. 647 

J 
•whose fulfilment ought sooner or later to be attained, if the whole cause 
is not to be endangered : 

1. The future House Fathers, assistants and teachers should, both 
theoretically and practically, be prepared for their solemn calling, which 
is only possible if they are for a number of years co-workers in an institu- 
tion specially established for this purpose. 

3. The number of such institutions which are already in operation (the 
Bruderanstaltcn) should be constantly increased, and, by an interchange 
of the varied experiences, the system be constantly improved. 

3. There ought to be a supervision of the Reform Schools, authorized 
both by the Church and the State, which supervision, however, ought not 
to have a bureaucratic character, but should, by the authority vested in it, 
be able to protect the liberty and private character of the institution, and 
make improvements where they are needed. 

4. Only in this manner will it be possible to have a guarantee that 
those free boards of administration, which stand in need of such a super- 
vision, at least fulfil their duties according to the statutes, for the benefit 
of the institution and its local administration, through and in reference to 
the House Father. 

5. It becomes more and more necessary to grant the House Fathers 
some pecuniary assistance, particularly for the education of their own 
children, who cannot, without danger to themselves, remain at the Reform 
School. When House Fathers become superannuated, after many years 
of faithful service, they ought to receive a pension. This question has 
already been mooted at several conferences. 

All these considerations combined, urgently demand that the hitherto 
existing isolation of the various Reform Schools should cease, and a lively 
and regulated intercourse of the various institutions and House Fathers 
should be inaugurated, so that one may learn from the other, and, from 
this interchange of ideas, derive new strength to pursue the work. This 
approach of the various institutions to each other may be brought about 
in a two-fold manner, — either by literary communications or by personal 
meetings. With regard to the first, we can here mention that already, 
for a number of years, the Central Committee for Home Missions, in the 
German Evangelical Church, (Berlin and Hamburg), has caused more than 
one hundred Reform Schools to communicate their reports to each other. 
A supplement to these communications is found in the Fliegende Blatter, 
(" Fugitive Leaves "), published by the Rauhe Haus. In the various Ger- 
man countries there are journals which give information concerning the 
institutions located in their district: e. g., in Wurtemberg, the Armen- 
blatter, (" Jomnal for the Poor"), by Dr. Hehn, and the Christenbotde, (the 
"Christian Messenger"), by Pastor Burk; in Bavaria, the PuckenTiofer 
Blatter; in Baden, the Reich Gottes, (the " Kingdom of God"), by Rev. Mr. 
Mann ; in East Prussia, the Evangelische Oemeindeblait, etc. But, as yet, 
there is no general organ for the whole of Germany ; neither are there any 
societies, as in England. 

^The great obstacle is the peculiar tendency of the German national 
character to take an interest only in their native town or village. Besides 
this, there_are the many special ecclesiastical and political party-interests, 



648 THE GEKMAJf EEFOEM SCHOOL. 

which 'throw almost insuperable difllcuUies in the way of such united 
efforts. Still, there has of late been some improvement in this direction, 
especially through the instrumentality of the societies for Home Missions, 
which have instituted annual meetings of House Fathers and representa- 
tives of the Reform Schools in the various districts. Thus the Branden- 
burg Society for Home Missions, the Pomeranian Society, the Silesian 
Society (meets in Liegnitz), the Conference for Home Missions at Baiers- 
dorf, in Bavaria, and the annual meetings of House Fathers at Zllllchow, 
near Stettin. 

A subject often broached at these meetings is the idea of a uniform 
organization of all the Reform Schools, which, however, is more visionary, 
and will scarcely ever be realized. If the various groups of Reform Schools 
could, through a special journal, be more intimately connected, then there 
would at least be a sound preliminary base, on which the work of uniting 
the efforts already made might safely be built up. The foundation on 
which these institutions rest is such a good and lasting one, and the bless- 
ing which, so far, has attended the work is so evident, that, in casting a 
farewell glance at the Reform Schools of Germany, we cannot doubt that 
the work so successfully inaugurated, under the blessing of God, will con- 
tinue to flourish in future times like a tree " planted by the rivers of 
water," constantly putting forth new leaves, flowers and fruits, and, till 
the end of days, continue to be a blessing to the German nation and its 
children. 



German Educational Biography: Memoirs of Teachers and Found- 
ers, Organizers, and Reformers of Systems, Institutions and Methods of 
Instruction in Germany. Republished from The American Journal of 
Education: Henry Barnard, LL.D., Editor. Third Edition. Hart- 
ford: Brown & Gross. 1876. 608 pages. $3.50. 

CONTENTS. 



I. EARLY CHRISTIAN TEACHERS, from 696 to 1300 9-40 

WlLIBKORD AND WiNIPBBD AT UtRECHT — WiNPRBD (St. BONIFACB) AT FuLDA. . 9 

Charlemagne and Alcuin— Seminaries — Cloister and Grammar Schools, 11 

FoxDA, Hatto AND Rabanus— Lupus OP Ferkieres—Hamo 16 

Paschasius op Old Corby— Anscharius of New Corbt 22 

Bruno op Cologne — Ditmar— Boppo and Wolpgang op Wurtzburg 25 

Udalric of Augsburg— Bernward op Hildesiieim — Tangmab 28 

Bennon op MisNiA — Meinwebc op Paderborn— Adalbert OP Prague 30 

Othlonus of St. Emmeran— William of Hibsohau 32 

Marianqs— Albert the Great op Cologne £6 

n. HIERONYMIANS, OR BRETHREN OF THE COMMON LIFE, from 1340 to 1500 41-64 

Girard Groote— John Cole— Florentius Radewin 41 

Gerard Zerbolt— Thomas-a-Kempis— Hknrt de Mesmes 48 

John Wksskl— Teacher of Greek and Hebrew— Goswin or Harlon 50 

Rudolf Agricola— Teacher at Heidelberg— Methods of Study 53 

Alexbnder Hegius at Wessel, Emmerich, and Devknter 59 

MURMELLIUS at MUNSTER, AND ALCMAR, C^SARIUS. CODENIUS, HoELENXUS . . 60 

Rudolf Lanqe at Munster— Herrmann Busch at Wessel 62 

III. ERASMUS AND HIS EDUCATIONAL WORK, 1467 to 1536 65-80 

Memoir— services to classical and biblical learning 79 

IV. REUCHLIN AND THE SCHLETTSTADT SCHOOL, 1360 81-92 

Schlettstadt School and its first Rector, Dringenbbrg 81 

Jacob Winpheling— Rector at Heidelburg— Teacher at Strasbueg 82 

John Reuchlin— Services to Greek and Hebrew Studies 84 

V. RETROSPECT OP 15TH&16TH CENTURIES 91 

Old and New Studies- Medieval and New School Books 91 

VI. MARTIN LUTHER AND HIS EDUCATIONAL WORK 97-160 

I. Education— Condition op the Trivial Schools 101 

Monastic school at magde burg —latin school at eisenach 109 

University of erpurt — professor at wittenberg 119 

II. Views op Education and Schools 131 

Home government— domestic training— parental duty 131 

Schools — address to the town councils op Germany— universities 139 

ni. School Organizations OF BuGBNHAGBN UNDER Luther's Direction 160 

VIL PHILIP MELANCTHON AND HIS EDUCATIONAL WORK 161-184 

I. Education AT PspoRSHEiM, Heidelberg, AND Tubingen 161 

II. Activity at Wittenberg— School Plan for Thuringia 169 

III. Manuals of Grammar, Logic, Rhetoric, Physics, Ethics, 175 



CONTENTS. 

VIII. FOUNDERS OP SCHOOLS AND METHODOLOGY IN IGTH CENTURY 185-256 

I. Valentine Friedland Trotzendorp, 1490-155G, 185 

Rector of the goldberq school 185 

n. John Sturm, 1507-1589 193 

Rector of otmnasium at strasbubo 193 

System of instruction in detail 195 

III. Michael Nbander, 1525-1593 225 

Rector of the cloister school at ilfeld 226 

IV. The Jesuits and their Schools in Germany 229 

IX. INFLUENCE OP LUTHER'S ECCLESIASTICAL REVOLUTION 251-272 

1. Universities and higher education 251 

2. Gymnasium and secondary education 257 

3. Gkrman schools and popular education 865 

X. EDUCATIONAL REFORMERS OP THE 16TH & 17TH CENTURIES 273-352 

I. Wolfgang Ratich, 1571—1635 273 

Educational work 394 

II. John Amos Comenius, 1592-1635 305 

Labors IN GERMANY, HOLLAND, SWEDEN, AND ENGLAND 307 

Pedagogical publications 317 

Plan OF studies— grades of schools 325 

Influence of the thirty years' WAR ON schools '41 

III. John Julius Hecker, and Realistic Instruction, 1739-1797, 321 

IV. Augustus Herman Franke, and the Pietists, 1663-1727 337 

V. John Bernhard Basedow, 1723-1789 343 

Philanthopinum at DESSAU— associate teachers 489 

XL REFORMATORY PHILOLOGISTS 353-416 

I. John Mather Gesneb, 1691-1761 361 

II. John August Brnesti, 1707-1781 374 

ui. John George Haemann, 1730-1788 387 

IV. John Gotfried Herder, 1744-1803 401 

V. Priedcick August Wolf, 1759-1824 413 

XIL ORGANIZERS AND DEVELOPMENT OP POPULAR INSTRUCTION 417-560 

I. Duke George op Wurtbmberg— School Code of 1559 417 

II. August I. of Saxony— School Plan of 1580 425 

III. Ernest the Pious— Manual for Schools of 1641 433 

rv. School Organization in Prussia, 1501-1796 459 

T. Frederic II., School Reforms IN Prussia 481 

1. General regulation of elementary schools and teachers, 1763 513 

2. Regulations of the catholic schools of silesta, 1764 521 

VI. Maria Theresa and Scaoou Reforms in Austria 529 

1. Higher and secondary schools, 1763 537 

2. General law for the schools op Austria, 1774 547 

Xm. THE GERMAN POPULAR SCHOOL 581-608 

Influences of Pestalozzi and Pestalozzianism 579 



English Pedagogy — Old and New : or, Treatises and Thoughts on 
Education, the School, and the Teacher in English Literature. Second 
Series. Republished from Barnard's American Journal of Education, 
008 pages. $3.50. 1876. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

Introduction i-xvL 

CONTKNTS AND InDEX OF FiRST SERIES ix 

Art. I. TuE Endoaved Grammar Schools and Secondary Education' 1-176 

Characteristic Features 1 

Chronological Establishment 3 

Henry VI. and Eton College, Windsor 5 

Merchant Taylors' School 9 

Shrewsbury Free Grammar School 11 

II. "William of Wickiiam and St. Mary's College 13 

Memoir and Educational Work 13 

St. Mary's College — Constitution — Studies — Condition, &c... 17 

III. Dean Colet and Sr. Paul's School, Londox 49 

Memoir — Erasmus — I^illy — Rytwise 49 

St. Paul's School — Statutes — Studies — Condition 59 

IV. General Survey of the Gre.^t Public Schools 81-11 T 

Y. Greek L.vnguage ix Public Schools 118 

VI. Gr.\mmar Schools — Moderx and Ancient 129-176 

Dr. Arnold and Rugby School 97-129 

Cardinal Volsey and Ipswich Grammar School — 1528. 155-173 

VII. Pedagogy of the Old Masters 177-324 

Richard Mulcaster 177 

Elemkntarie, or Writing of the English Tongue — 1.j8] 178 

Positions Respecting the Training of Children — 15G1 ISO 

John Brinsly— 1587-1GG5 185 

LuDus LiTERARius, or the Grammar School — 16ii7 185 

Charles Hoole— 1018-167 7 189 

English Edition of Comenius's Orbis Pictus 190 

Kew Discovery of the Old Art of Teaching 193 

The Petty Schooi 193 

Early English School Cooks 208 

The Gram.mar School 225 

The Ushers' Duty 225 

The JIaster's Method 207 

Scholastic Discipline 293 

VIII. School Punishments — Historically Considered 325-336 

The Strap— Ferule — Rod — Birch — Taws 325 

IX. Alexander Pope — Robert South — Sir Richard Steele. . . 337-346 

Thoughts on Education 337 

X. Oliver Goldsmith — 1731-1744 347-35S 

Essay on Education 347 

XI. Samuel Johnson— 1708-1784 359-364 

Plan of Studies and Detached Thoughts 359 

XII. Samuel Parr— 1747-1825 365-36S 

Charity School Sermon 365 



ENGLISH PEDAGOGY— SECOND SERIES. 

Pace. 

XIII. English Home Life and Education 369-400 

The Evelyn Family 3G9 

Mrs. Elizabeth Sadler Walker — JIrs. Lucy Hutchinson 385 

The Boyle Family — Lady Ranelaou — Countess of Warwick 390 

Margaret Lucas — Duchess of Newcastle 301 

Anne Harrison — Lady Fanshawe 393 

Daughters of Sir Anthony Cook — Lady Bacon — Lady I!urlki.-:ii 4ti3 

XIV. Advice as to Education and Conduct for Public Life. . . 401-41G 

Sir Thomas Elyot 401 

The Governor, or Training for the Common Weal 403 

Sir Thomas Smith 415 

Advertisements for Sons of Noblemen and Counselors 4J6 

XV. Education, the School, and the Teacher — Continued 417-448 

Daniel Defoe 417 

Scheme of a University for London — An Academy of Music 421 

Illiteracy and Learning— The Scholar and the Pedant 423 

Essay upon Projects — Military Academies and Exercises 419 

Academy of English Philology — Academy for Women 420 

Hobert Southby 433 

The Home and Home Education of Doctor Daniel Dove 433 

Richard Guy — The Schoolmaster of Inoleton 439 

Dialogue of Johannes Kivisius Textor 445 

XVL Thomas Babington Macaulay 440-4G4 

Academical Education in 182G ^ol 

Objections to Oxford and Cambridge 451 

Mathematics— Classical Studies— Omissions 451 

London University— University Teaching at Athens 459 

Elementary Education and the State 4G1 

Competitive Examination FOR the India Civil Service 461 

XVII. English Pedagogy of 19th Century 465-544 

Joseph Payne 465 

The Science and Art of Education 465 

The KiNDERiiARTEN System of Frcebel 471 

James Donaldson 481 

The Scienc:e of Education 481 

The Aim of Primary Schools 489 

Henry Calderwood 497 

On Teaching — Its Ends and Means 497 

"William Jolly 527 

Plan of a University Chair of Pedagogy 527 

Isaac Todhunter 529 

Conflict of Studies ^'.9 

R. H. Quick 537 

First Steps in Teaching a Foreign Language 537 

XVIIL Survey of English Schools, Teachers and Teaching 545-604 

Studies and Conduct — Index 545 

Primary Schools and Elementary Instruction — Contents 553 

English Pedagogy— First Series — Contents 561 

National Education — Contents 5(7 

Index to English Pedagogy — Old and 'Sew— Second Series 593-604 



AjituicAN rKDAGOGY : Contributions to the Priiuiples iiud Methods of Edu- 
cation, by B:irn:ird, Burgess, Bushnell, Channing, Cowdery, Dickinson, Doane, 
Everett, Fairchild, Hart, Hopkins, Huntington, Mann, Page, Philhrick, Pierce, 
Potter, Sheldon, Way hind, and Wilbur. Selected from Barnard's American 
Journal of Eilucation. First Scries. Third Ed. 576 pages. $.3.00, 

OOE'TEE'TS. 



PAGE. 

I. — Education and Schools 1-4 

Bushnell — Page — Potter — Woodbridge — JIann 5 

II. — Faculties and Studies — Their Order and Method of Treatment. .5-268 
I. Intellectual and Moral Education. By William Russell 5-156 

1. The Perceptive Faculties 5 

2. The Expressive Faculties , 57 

3. The Reflective Faculties 101 

II. Moral Education. By William Russell 157-186 

Health — Intellect — Taste — Sensibility — Instinctive Tendencies 160 

Primary Emotions — Benignant Affections — Generous Affections 165 

Religious Principles — The Will — Practical Virtues — Humane Virtues 175 

Personal Qualities — Self Renouncing A'irtues — Example — Habits 179 

III. Religious Instruction. By Rt. Rev. George Burgess 187-192 

Intrinsic Importance — Limitations in Public Schools 187 

IV. The True Order of Study. By Thomas Hill, D.D 193-254 

Mathesis — Physics — History — Psychology —Theology 196 

V. The Powers to be Educated. By Thomas Hill, D.D 245-256 

The Senses — Inward Intuition — Memory — Reason — Sensibility — Will 245 

TT. Mind — Objects and Methods of its Culture. By Francis Wayland, D.D. 257-272 

1. Science of Education — To discover, apply, and obey God's Laws 259 

2. Methods of training the mind to these objects 266 

III.— The Teacher 273-304 

I. The Dignity of the Office, and Special Preparation. By W. E. Channing 273 

II. The Teacher's Motives. By Horace Mann 277 

IV. — National and State Relations to Education 305-336 

I. Education a National Interest. George Washington 305 

II. The Duty of the State to make Education Universal 31 

Bishop Doane — Address to the People of New Jersey 313 

Penn — Adams— Jefferson — Madison — Jay — Rush— Kent 317 

in. The Right and Practice of Property Taxation for School Purposes 323 

D. D. Barnard — Report to the Legislature of New York 323 

■ Daniel Webster— The early School Policy of New England 327 

Horace Mann — The principles underlying the Ordinance of 1647 328 

Henry Barnard— The Early School Codes of Connecticut and New Haven 332 

National Land Grants for Educational Purposes 334 

V. — Various Aspects of Popular and Higher Education 337-400 

I. Bishop Aionzo Potter, D.D., of Penn 337 

Consolidation and other Modifications of American Colleges 337 

II. Edward Everett, President of Harvard CoUege 343 

Reminiscences of School and College Life— Conditions of a good school. ... 344 

Popular Education and Sound Science— Moral Education 350 

Generous Studies— Homeric Controversy— Education iind Civilization .S-SG 

Popular Education— Boston Public Library— Female Education 361 

ni. F. A. P. Barnard, D.D., LL.D., President of Columbia College 367 

College Contributions to the American Educated Mind 367 

Sub-graduate and Postgraduate Collegiate Course— Oral Teaching 371 

Higher Scientific Instruction— Elective Studies 375 



AMERICAN PEDAGOGY.— FIRST SERIES. 

PAGE. 

rV. Maek Hopkins, D.D., President of Williams College 378 

Education — Self Education — Female Education — Academies. ... 378 

Medical Science — Theological Education — Colleges 381 

V. James E. Fairchild, D.D., President of Oberlin College 385 

Co-education of the Sexes 385 

VI. — Professional or Normal Aims and Methods in Teaching 401 

I. John S. Hart, Principal of State Normal School, Trenton 401 

What is Special or Professional Preparation ? — Teaching — Training 403 

Recitations — Art of Questioning 417 

II. Cteus Pierce, Principal of the first State Normal School 425 

Aims and Sletliods in Training Pupil-Teachers 425 

III. Nicholas Tillinghast, Principal of State Normal School at Bridgewater 431 

Aims and Methods in Training Teachers 432 

rV. J. W. Dickinson, Principal of State Normal School at Westfield 433 

The Philosophy and Method of Teaching at Westfield 433 

V. D. P. Page, Principal of State Normal School, Albany 487 

Tlie Pouring-in Process — The Drawing-out Process — Waking up of Mind.. . 437 

Dr. Watland— Thomas II. Grimke ■ 447 

Method of Recitation and Study 448 

VI. E. A. Sheldon, Principal of State Training School, Oswego 449 

Object Teaching as pursued at Oswego 449 

VII. n. B. Wilbur, Superintendent of State School for Feeble Minded Youth 459 

Object Teaching as pursued at Oswego 459 

VIII. S.W. Mason, Principal of Hancock Grammar School, Boston 465 

Physical Exercises in School 465 

IX. M. F. CowDERT, Superintendent of Public Schools, Sandusky 473 

Formation of Moral Character 473 

VII. — Work before the American Teacher and Educator.. 585-576 

I. Henry Barnard 485 

Magnitude and Modes of Advancing the Educational Interests of the 

United States 485 

II. Horace Mann 513 

Addresses as President of the National Convention of the Friends of 

Common Schools, in Philadelphia, 1849 513 

III. John D. Philbrick , Superintendent of Public Schools, Boston 513 

Address before the National Teachers' Association , 1862 510 

SECOND SERIES. 
[A Second Volume of Selections from Barnard's American Journal of Educa- 
tion on Topics in the wide field of American Pedagogy, Avill be issued in 1873, 
and will contain Eeports, Essays, and Thoughts, by Adams, Bache, Barnard, 
Beecher, Boutwell, Brooks, Bushnell, Choate, Eaton, Emerson, Gregory, Har- 
ris, Huntington, Kiddle, Lewis, Lindsley, Mann, Sears, Smith, White, and 
others.] 

I. — Education and Schools 1-4 

II.— Letters to a Young Teacher. By Gideon F. Thayer 5-104 

Vn. — ^PowER OF Character and Example 385-416 

I. Horace Bushnell °°^ 

Magnetism of Character— Unconscious Influence ^^' 

II. Rt. Rev. F. D. Huntington ^^ 

Unconscious Tuition • • 



AMERICAN PEDAGOOY.— FIRST SERIES. 

PAGE. 

rV. Mark Hopkins, D.D., President of Williams College 378 

Education — Self Education — Female Education — Academies. ... 378 

Medical Science — Theological Education — Colleges 381 

V. James E. Fairchild, D.D., President of Oberlin College 385 

Co-education of the Sexes 385 

VI. — Professional or Normal Aims and Methods in Teaching 401 

I. John S. Hart, Principal of State Normal School, Trenton 401 

What is Special or Professional Preparation ? — Teaching — Training 403 

Recitations — Art of Questioning 417 

II. Cyrus Pierce, Principal of the first State Normal School 425 

Aims and Blethods in Training Pupil-Teachers 425 

III. Nicholas Tillinghast, Principal of State Normal School at Bridgewater 431 

Aims and Methods in Training Teachers 432 

IV. J. W. Dickinson, Principal of State Normal School at Westfield 433 

The Philosophy and Method of Teaching at Westfield 433 

V. D. P. Page, Principal of State Normal School, Albany 437 

The Pouring-in Process — The Drawing-out Process — Waking up of Mind.. . 437 

Dr. Watland— Thomas II. Grimke 447 

Method of Recitation and Study 448 

VI. E. A. Sheldon, Principal of State Training School, Oswego 449 

Object Teaching as pursued at Oswego 449 

VII. H. B. Wilhur, Superintendent of State School for Feeble Minded Youth 459 

Object Teaching as pursued at Oswego 459 

VIII. S.W. Mason, Principal of Hancock Grammar School, Boston 465 

Physical Exercises in School 465 

IX. M. F. Cowdert, Superintendent of Public Schools, Sandusky 473 

Formation of Moral Character 473 

VII. — Work before the American Teacher and Educator.. 585-576 

I. Henry Barnard 485 

Magnitude and Modes of Adrancing the Educational Interests of the 

United States 485 

II. Horace Mann 513 

Addresses as President of the National Convention of the Friends of 

Common Schools, in Philadelphia, 1849 51-3 

III. John D. Puilbrick, Superintendent of Public Schools, Boston 513 

Address before the National Teachers' Association , 1862 510 

SECOND SERIES. 
[A Second Volume of Selections from Barnard's American Journal of Educa- 
tion on Topics in the wide field of American Pedagogy, avIU be issued in 1873, 
and will contain Eeports, Essays, and Thoughts, by Adams, Bache, Barnard, 
Beecher, Boutwell, Brooks, Bushnell, Choate, Eaton, Emerson, Gregory, Har- 
ris, Huntington, Kiddle, Lewis, Lindsley, Mann, Sears, Smith, White, and 
others.] 

I. — Education and Schools 1-4 

II. — Letters to a Young Teacher. By Gideon E. Thayer 5-104 

Vn. — ^PowER OF Character and Example 385-416 

I. Horace Bushnell "°^ 

Magnetism of Character— TJnconscioua Influence ^^' 

II. Rt. Rev. F. D. Huntington ^ 

Unconscious Tuition • ' " 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




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